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https://archive.org/details/poeticalworksofs00wyat_0 


THE 


POETICAL  WOPtKS 


OF 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


WITH  A MEMOIR. 


BOSTON: 

LITTLE,  BROWN  AND  COMPANY. 

KEW  YORK:  EVANS  AND  DICKERSON. 
PHILADELPHIA  : LIPPINCOTT,  GRAMBO  AND  CO. 


M.DCCC.LIV. 


CAM  BRIDGE; 

PRINTED  BY  ALLEN  AND  FARNHAM. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  STONE  AND  blART. 


g'J.i 
Wll 
/f  54- 


contents. 


CJ> 

C3c: 

(3 

GO 


Memoir 


CD 

UJ 


SONGS  AND  SONNETS. 

The  Lover  for  shamefastness  hideth  his  Desire  within  his 

faithful  Heart 

The  Lover  waxeth  wiser,  and  will  not  die  for  Affection 
The  abused  Lover  seeth  his  Folly  and  intendeth  to  trus 

no  more 

The  Lover  describeth  his  being  stricken  with  sight  of  his 

Love  

The  wavering  Lover  willeth,  and  dreadeth,  to  move  hi 
Desire 

Y^The  Lover  having  streamed  enjoying  of  his  Love,  com- 

'iv  plaineth  that  the  Dream  is  not  either  longer  or  truer 

^ The  Lover  unhappy  biddeth  happy  Lovers  rejoice  in  May 

while  he  waileth  that  jMonth  to  him  most  unlucky 

The  Lover  confesseth  him  in  Love  with  Phillis 

0 Of  others’  feigned  Sorrow,  and  the  Lover’s  feigned  Mirth 

Of  change  in  Mind 

How  the  Lover  perisheth  in  his  Delight  as  the  Fly  in  the  Fire 

V Against  his  Tongue  that  failed  to  utter  his  Suits 

\ Description  of  the  contrarious  Passions  in  a Lover  . 

rilThe  Lover  compareth  his  State  to  a Ship  in  perilous 

■ Storm  tossed  on  the  Sea 

':::^Of  doubtful  Love 

The  Lover  abused  renounceth  Love  . 
o 

^ To  his  Lady,  cruel  over  her  yielding  Lover 
How  unpossible  it  is  to  find  quiet  in  Love 
^ Of  Love,  Fortune,  and  the  Lover’s  Mind  . 

'-..i.^The  Lover  prayeth  his  offered  Heart  to  be  received 
The  Lover’s  Life  compared  to  the  Alps 

- 4 

5 


Page 


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7 

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8 
9 

9 

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11 

11 

12 

13 

13 

U 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


Charging  of  his  Love  as  unpiteous  and  loving  other  . 15 

The  Lover  forsaketh  his  unkind  Love  ....  15 

The  Lover  describeth  his  restless  State  ....  16 

The  Lover  laments  the  Death  of  his  Love  ...  17 

A renouncing  of  Love 18 

The  Lover  despairing  to  attain  unto  his  Lady’s  Grace  re- 

linquisheth  the  pursuit 18 

The  deserted  Lover  consoleth  himself  with  remembrance 
that  all  Women  are  by  nature  fickle  ....  19 

That  Hope  unsatisfied  is  to  the  Lover’s  Heart  as  a pro- 
longed Death . . . 20 

He  prayeth  his  Lady  to  be  true,  for  no  one  can  restrain 

a willing  Mind 20 

The  deserted  Lover  wisheth  that  his  Rival  might  experi- 
ence the  same  Fortune  he  himself  had  tasted  . . 21 

RONDEAUX. 

Request  to  Cupid  for  Revenge  of  his  unkind  Love  . . 22 

Complaint  for  true  Love  unrequited 22 

The  Lover  sendeth  Sighs  to  move  his  Suit  ...  23 

The  Lover  seeking  for  his  lost  Heart  prayeth  that  it  may 
be  kindly  entreated  by  whomsoever  found  ...  24 

He  determineth  to  cease  to  Love 24 

Of  the  Folly  of  loving  when  the  Season  of  Love  is  past  25 
The  abused  Lover  resolveth  to  forget  his  unkind  Mistress  26 
The  absent  Lover  persuadeth  himself  that  his  Mistress 
will  not  have  the  power  to  forsake  him  ....  27 

The  recured  Lover  renounceth  his  fickle  Mistress  for  her 

Newfangleness 28 

ODES. 

The  Lover  complaineth  the  unkindness  of  his  Love  . . 29 

The  Lover  rejoiceth  the  enjojnng. of  his  Love  ...  80 

The  Lover  sheweth  how  he  is  forsaken  of  such  as  he 

sometime  enjoyed 31 

The  Lover  to  his  Bed,  with  describing  of  his  unquiet  State  32 

The  Lover  complaineth  that  his  Love  doth  not  pity  him  33 

The  Lover  complaineth  himself  forsaken  ....  84 

A renouncing  of  hardly  escaped  Love  ....  36 


CONTENTS.  V 

The  Lover  taught,  mistrusteth  Allurements  ...  36 

The  Lover  rejoiceth  against  Fortune  that  by  hindering 
his  suit  had  happily  made  him  forsake  his  Folly  . . 37 

The  Lover’s  sorrowful  State  maketh  him  write  sorrowful 

Songs,  but  such  his  Love  may  change  the  same  . . 38 

The  Lover  sendeth  his  Complaints  and  Tears  to  sue  for 

Grace 40 

The  Lover’s  Case  cannot  be  hidden  however  he  dissemble  41 
The  Lover  prayeth  not  to  be  disdained,  refused,  mistrust- 
ed, nor  forsaken 43 

The  Lover  lumenteth  his  Estate  with  suit  for  Grace  . . 44 

The  Lover  waileth  his  changed  Joys  .....  45 

To  his  Love  that  liath  given  him  answer  of  refusal  . . 46 

The  Lover  describeth  his  being  taken  with  sight  of  his 

Love 47 

The  Lover  excuseth  him  of  Words,  wherewith  he  was 

unjustly  charged 48 

The  Lover  curseth  the  Time  when  first  he  fell  in  Love  . 50 

The  Lover  determineth  to  servo  faithfully  ...  51 

To  his  unkind  Love 52 

The  Lover  complaineth  his  Estate 53 

Whether  Liberty  by  loss  of  Life,  or  Life  in  Prison  and 

thraldom  be  to  be  preferred 54 

He  ruleth  not  though  he  reign  over  Eealms,  that  is  sub- 
ject to  his  own  Lusts ' . 56 

The  faithful  Lover  giveth  to  his  Mistress  his  Heart  as  his 

best  and  only  Treasure 57 

A Description  of  the  Sorrow  of  true  Lovers’  parting  . 58 

The  neglected  Lover  calleth  on  his  stony  hearted  Mistress 
to  hear  him  complain  ere  that  he  die  . . . . 59 

He  rejoiceth  the  obtaining  the  Favour  of  the  Mistress  of 

his  Heart 60 

The  Lover  prayeth  Venus  to  conduct  him  to  the  desired 

Haven 61 

The  Lover  praiseth  the  Beauty  of  his  Lady’s  Hand  . . 62 

That  the  Eye  bewrayeth  alway  the  secret  Affections  of  the 

Heart 64 

The  Lover  complaineth  that  Faith  may  not  avail  without 
the  Favour  of  Fantasy 65 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


That  too  much  Confidence  sometimes  disappointeth  Hope  67 
The  Lover  bemoaneth  his  unhappiness  that  he  cannot  ob- 
tain Grace,  yet  cannot  cease  loving  . . . . 68 

The  mournful  Lover  to  his  Heart  with  Complaint  that  it 

will  not  break .70 

The  Lover  renounces  his  cruel  Love  for  ever  . . . 71 

A Complaint  of  his  Lady’s  Cruelty 73 

Of  the  Contrary  Affections  of  the  Lover  . . . . 74 

That  right  cannot  govern  Fancy 75 

That  true  Love  availeth  not  when  Fortune  list  to  frown  . 76 

The  deceived  Lover  sueth  only  for  Liberty  . . . 78 

The  Lover  calleth  on  his  Lute  to  help  him  bemoan  his 

hapless  Fate 79 

That  the  Power  of  Love  is  such  he  worketh  Impossibilities  81 

That  the  Life  of  the  unregarded  Lover  is  worse  than  Death  82 

The  Lover  who  cannot  prevail  must  needs  have  Patience  83 

When  Fortune  smiles  not,  only  Patience  comforteth  . 84 

That  Patience  alone  can  heal  the  Wound  infiicted  by 

Adversity 85 

The  Lover,  hopeless  of  greater  Happiness,  contenteth  him- 
self with  only  Pity 86 

That  Time,  Humbleness,  and  Prayer,  can  soften  every 

thing  save  his  Lady’s  Heart 87 

That  Unkindness  hath  slain  his  poor  true  Heart  . . 88 

The  dying  Lover  cc«iiplaineth  that  his  Mistress  regardeth 

not  his  Sufferings 89 

The  careful  Lover  complaineth,  and  the  happy  Lover 

counselleth 90 

The  Lover  having  broken  his  Bondage,  voweth  never 

more  to  be  enthralled 91 

The  abused  Lover  admonishes  the  unwary  to  beware  of 

Love 92 

A Reproof  to  such  as  slander  Love 93 

Despair  counselleth  the  deserted  Lover  to  end  his  Woes 
by  Death,  but  Reason  bringeth  Comfort  ...  96 

The  Lover’s  Lute  cannot  be  blamed  though  it  sing  of  his 

Lady’s  Unkindness 98 

The  neglected  Lover  calleth  on  his  Pen  to  record  the 
ungentle  Behaviour  of  his  unkind  Mistress  . . . 100 


CONTENTS.  Vii 

That  Caution  should  be  used  in  Love  ....  101 

An  earnest  Bequest  to  his  cruel  Mistress  either  to  pity 

him  or  let  him  die 102 

The  abused  Lover  reproacheth  his  false  Mistress  of  Dis- 
simulation   103 

He  bewails  his  hard  Fate  that  though  beloved  of  his  Mis- 
tress he  still  lives  in  pain 104 

A Complaint  of  the  Falseness  of  Love  ....  105 

The  Lover  sueth  that  his  Service  may  be  accepted  . . 106 

Of  the  Pains  and  Sorrows  caused  by  Love  . . . 107 

The  Lover  recounteth  the  variable  Fancy  of  his  fickle 

Mistress 108 

The  abused  Lover  bewails  the  time  that  ever  his  Eye 
beheld  her  to  whom  he  had  given  his  faithful  Heart  . 110 

An  earnest  Suit  to  his  unkind  Mistress  not  to  forsake  him  111 
He  remembereth  the  Promise  his  Lady  once  gave  him 
of  Affection,  and  comforteth  himself  with  Hope  . . 112 

That  all  his  Joy  dependeth  on  his  Lady’s  Favour  . . 113 

He  promiseth  to  remain  faithful  whatever  Fortune  betide  115 
The  faithful  Lover  wisheth  all  Evil  may  befall  him  if  he 

forsake  his  Lady  116 

Of  Fortune,  Love,  and  Fantasy 117 

Deserted  by  his  Mistress,  he  renounceth  all  Joy  for  ever  119 
That  no  Words  may  express  the  crafty  Trains  of  Love  . 119 

That  the  Power  of  Love  excuseth  the  Folly  of  loving  . 121 

The  doubtful  Lover  resolveth  to  be  assured  whether  he  is 

to  live  in  joy  or  woe 122 

Of  the  extreme  Torment  endured  by  the  unhappy  Lover  123 
He  biddeth  farewell  to  his  unkind  Mistress  . . . 124 

He  repenteth  that  he  had  ever  loved 124 

The  Lover  beseecheth  his  Mistress  not  to  forget  his  stead- 
fast Faith  and  true  Intent 126 

He  bewails  the  Pain  he  endures  when  banished  from  the 

Mistress  of  his  Heart 127 

He  compares  his  Sufferings  to  those  of  Tantalus  . . 127 

That  nothing  may  assuage  his  Pain  save  only  his  Lady’s 

Favour 128 

The  Lover  prayeth  that  his  long  Sufferings  may  at  length 
find  Kecompense 128 


Yin 


CONTENTS. 


He  describeth  the  ceaseless  Torments  of  Love  . . . 130 

That  the  Season  of  Enjoyment  is  short,  and  should  not 

pass  by  neglected 131 

That  the  Pain  he  endured  should  not  make  him  cease 
from  loving  . . . ...  . . .133 

The  Complaint  of  a deserted  Lover 134 

That  Faith  is  dead,  and  true  Love  disregarded  . . . 136 

The  Lover  complaineth  that  his  faithful  Heart  and  true 

Meaning  had  never  met  with  just  Reward  . . . 137 

The  forsaken  Lover  consoleth  himself  with  remembrance 

of  past  Happiness  . ■ 138 

He  complaineth  to  his  Heart  that  having  once  recovered 
his  Freedom  he  had  again  become  thrall  to  Love  . . 140 

He  professeth  Indifference 141 

He  rejoiceth  that  he  had  broken  the  Snares  of  Love  . . 141 

The  Lover  prayeth  that  his  Lady’s  Heart  might  be  in- 
flamed with  equal  Affection 143 

The  disdainful  Lady  refusing  to  hear  her  Lover’s  Suit,  he 
resolveth  to  forsake  her  . . ...  . . .145 

The  absent  Lover  findeth  all  his  Pains  redoubled  . . 147 

He  seeketh  Comfort  in  Patience 148 

Of  the  Power  of  Love  over  the  yielden  Lover  . . . 148 

He  lamenteth  that  he  had  ever  Cause  to  doubt  his  Lady’s 

Faith 149 

The  recured  Lover  exulteth  in  his  Freedom,  and  voweth 
to  remain  free  until  Death  150 

POEMS. 

Wyatt’s  Complaint  upon  Love  to  Reason,  with  Love’s 

Answ'er 152 

Complaint  of  the  Absence  of  his  Love  ....  157 

The  Song  of  lopas,  unfinished 163 

SONGS  AND  EPIGPvAMS. 

A description  of  such  a one  as  he  would  love  . . . 168 

Why  Love  is  blind 168 

The  Lover  blametli  his  instant  Desire  ....  169 

Against  Hoarders  of  Money 169 

Description  of  a Gun  . . . . . . . .169 


CONTENTS.  ix 

Cf  the  Mother  that  eat  her  Child  at  the  Siege  of  Jerusalem  170 
To  his  Love  Avhom  he  had  kissed  against  her  Will  . . 170. 

Of  the  jealous  Man  that  loved  the  same  Woman,  and 
espied  this  other  sitting  with  her  . . . . . 171 

To  his  Love  from  whom  he  had  her  Gloves  . . 171 

The  Lover  complaineth  that  deadly  Sickness  cannot  help 

his  Affection .172 

Of  the  feigned  Friend 172 

Comparison  of  Love  to  a Stream  falling  from  the  Alps  . 173 
Of  his  Love  that  pricked  her  Finger  with  a Needle  . . 173 
Of  the  same  . . . . . ' . . . . 173 

The  Lover  that  fled  Love  now  follows  it  with  his  Harm  . 174 

The  Lover  compare th  his  Heart  to  the  overcharged  Gun  . 174 

How  by  a Kiss  he  found  both  his  Life  and  Death  . . 175 

To  his  Lover  to  look  upon  him 175 

Of  disappointed  Purpose  by  Negligence  . . . .175 

Of  his  Return  from  Spain 176 

Wyatt  being  in  Prison,  to  Bryan 176 

Of  such  as  had  forsaken  him 177 

The  Lover  hopeth  of  better  Chance  .....  177 

That  Pleasure  is  mixed  with  every  Vain  ....  177 

The  Courtier’s  Life 178 

Of  the  mean  and  sure  Estate 178 

The  Lover  suspected  of  Change  prayeth  that  it  be  not 

believed  against  him 179 

Of  dissembling  Words 179 

Of  sudden  trusting 180 

The  Lady  to  Answer  directly  with  Yea  or  Nay  . . 180 

Ansvrer  181 

The  Lover  professeth  himself  constant  ....  181 

The  Lover  blameth  his  Love  for  renting  of  the  Letter  he 

sent  her 182 

The  Lover  complaineth  and  his  Lady  comforteth  . . 182 

The  Lover  suspected  blameth  ill  Tongues  . . . 184 

Of  his  Love  called  Anna 184 

A Riddle  of  a Gift  given  by  a Lady 185 

That  speaking  or  proffering  brings  alway  speeding  . 185 

T.  Wyatt  of  Love 186 


X 


CONTENTS, 


SATIRES.  / 

Of  the  mean  and  sure  Estate,  written  to  John  Poins  . . 187 

Of  the  Courtier’s  Life,  written  to  John  Poins  . ..  . 191 

How  to  use  the  Court  and  himself  therein,  written  to  Sir 
Francis  Brian 194 

PENITENTIAL  PSALMS. 

The  Prologue  of  the  Author 203 

Domine,  ne  in  furore 206 

The  Author 210 

Beati,  quorum  remisse  sunt  Iniquitates  ....  211 

The  Author  . 214 

Domine,  ne  in  furore  tuo 215 

The  Author 218 

Miserere  mei,  Deus 219 

The  Author 222 

Domine,  exaudi  Orationem  meam 223 

The  Author 227 

De  profundis  clamavi  ad  te,  Domine 228 

The  Author 229 

Domine,  Orationem  meam 231 

No  enmlari  in  maligna  233 

An  Epitaph  of  Sir  Thomas  Gravener,  Knight  . . . 237 

Sir  Antonie  Sentleger  of  Sir  T.  Wyatt  ....  238 


MEMOIR  OF  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


His  life  for  aye,  of  Fame  the  trump  shall  sound : 

Though  he  be  dead,  yet  lives  he  here  alive, 

Thus  can  no  death  from  Wyatt  life  deprive. 

St.  Leigek. 

Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  the  contemporary  and 
friend  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  was  descended  from 
a family  of  some  antiquity,  which  was  settled  for 
several  generations  at  Southange  in  Yorkshire. 
His  father  Sir  Henry  Wyatt  was  a Privy  Coun- 
cillor to  Henry  the  Seventh,  whose  favour  he 
gained  in  consequence  of  his  adherence  to  the  house 
of  Tudor  during  the  reign  of  Pichard  the  Third,  by 
which  monarch  he  was  imprisoned  in  the  Tower,  ^ 
and,  unless  his  son  was  misinformed,  he  was  racked 
in  the  usurper’s  presence.f  He  purchased  the 
castle  and  estate  of  Allington  near  Maidstone  in 
Kent,  which  became  his  principal  residence.  As 

* A traditional  story  is  told,  that  whilst  in  the  Tower  a cat 
brought  him  a pigeon  every  day  from  a neighbouring  dove-cot, 
which  supply  saved  him  from  starvation. 

t See  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt’s  letter  to  his  son. 


xii  MEMOIR  OF 

one  of  the  King’s  executors  he  was  brought  conspic- 
uously to  the  notice  of  his  successor,  at  whose  coro- 
nation he  was  made  a Knight  of  the  Bath,  and  at  the 
battle  of  Spurs  his  valour  was  rewarded  by  the 
honor  of  Knight  Banneret : he  was  Treasurer  of 
the  King’s  Chamber  in  1525,  and  filled  many  other 
important  offices.  By  his  Avife  Anne,  daughter  of 
John  Skinner,  of  Reigate  in  Surrey,  Sir  Henry  left 
three  children,  Thomas  the  Poet,  Henry  who  lived 
in  a private  manner  in  Kent,  and  Margaret  the  Avife 
of  Sir  Anthony  Lee. 

Thomas  Wyatt,  the  eldest  son,  was  born  at  Al- 
lington  in  1503,  and  the  next  circumstance  relating 
to  him  which  is  knoAvn  is  that  in  1515  he  was  en- 
tered of  St.  John’s  College,  Cambridge,  Avhere  he 
took  his  B.  A.  degree  in  1518,  and  in  1520,  his 
Master’s  degree.  Probably  soon  after  quitting  Cam- 
bridge, Wyatt  passed  a short  time  at  Paris  in  con- 
formity Avith  the  custom  of  the  age,  but  whether,  as 
Wood  asserts,  he  visited  Italy,  is  shoAvn  by  Dr.  Nott 
to  be  very  doubtful.  About  1520  he  married  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  of  Thomas  Brooke,  Lord  Cobham ; 
and  it  appears  from  Hall’s  account  of  a feat  of  arms 
which  AA^as  performed  at  GreenAAuch  at  Christmas, 
1525,  that  he  AA^as  one  of  the  fourteen  challengers  on 
that  occasion. 

For  nearly  ten  years  after  that  time  no  informa-  . 
tion  has  been  found  about  him,  and  the  next  time  he 
is  mentioned  is  at  the  coronation  of  Anne  Boleyn 
in  July,  1533,  Avhen  he  officiated  as  EAA^erer  for  his 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Xlll 


father.  In  that  long  interval  he  may  be  presumed 
to  have  served  in  the  army,^  and  to  have  employed 
his  leisure  hours  in  literary  pursuits ; but  great  part 
of  his  time  was  undoubtedly  passed  at  court,  where 
his  personal  appearance,  no  less  than  his  talents  and 
accomplishments,  attracted  Henry’s  attention,  and 
gained  his  favour.  If  Lloyd  be  correct,  he  exercised 
the  influence  which  he  possessed  over  his  sovereign’s 
mind  in  promoting  the  interests  of  his  friends  rather 
than  his  own,  and  this  generous  zeal  on  behalf  of 
others  secured  him  the  esteem  of  all  who  knew  him. 
But  though  the  merits  of  Wyatt  obtained  for  him 
a brilliant  reputation,  they  nearly  proved  the  source 
of  a heavy  misfortune.  An  attachment  has  been 
supposed  to  have  existed  between  him  and  Anne 
Boleyn,  though  there  is  little  other  authority  for  the 
idea  than  a poem  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  mistress 
by  the  name  of  Anna,  and  uses  some  expressions 
which  have  been  tortured  into  an  allusion  to  the 
Queen.  Whether  an  opinion  prevailed  of  this 
nature  when  her  capricious  husband’s  affections 
were  withdrawn  from  her,  or  to  speak  more  cor- 
rectly, when  his  passion  for  her  person  was  satiated, 
or  whether  Wyatt’s  attractive  qualities  rendered 
him  an  eligible  individual  upon  whom  to  fix  the 

* Leland  speaks  of  his  martial  fame,  and  in  the  Dedication 
of  the  Penitential  Psalms  by  Sir  John  Harington  it  is  said  that 
he  was  renowned  “ for  his  valiant  deeds  in  martial  feats  as  well 
as  for  his  singular  learning.”  See  page  202. 


XIV 


MEMOIR  OF 


charge  of  a criminal  correspondence,  cannot  be  de- 
termined, but  it  is  certain  that  he  was  accused  of 
being  her  paramour.  It  would  be  tiresome  and 
profitless  to  follow  Dr.  Nott  in  his  speculations  on 
the  sentiments  wdiich  he  supposes  Anne  Boleyn 
and  Wyatt  to  have  entertained  for  each  other.  A 
similarity  of  taste  may  naturally  have  rendered  his 
society  agreeable  to  the  Queen ; and  it  is  not  extra- 
ordinary that  in  a crowd  of  foppish  and  unlettered 
courtiers,  his  presence  was  acceptable  to  her.  ThaM 
the  verses  which  Dr.  Nott  cites  as  being  addressed/ 
to  her  long  before  she  became  the  object  of  Henry’a 
desire,  do  not  justify  that  interpretation,  may  be\ 
safely  asserted ; for  there  is  not  the  slightest  evi- 
dence to  show  when  they  were  written,  or  that  he 
was  ever  enamoured  of  her.  Nor  must  it  be  for- 
gotten  that  at  the  very  moment  vTienTieis  supposed 
to  deplore  his  fate  in  losing  her,  in  consequence^  of 
the  King’s  intentions,  he  was  himself  a marri^^raau* 
The  same  reasons  which  refute  the  opinion  that" 
Surrey  was  seriously  attached  to  Geraldine  apply  j 
to  Wyatt’s  imaginary  affection  for  Anne  Boleyn ; f 
and  if  it  be  conceded  that  he  really  alluded  to  her  V 
in  the  poem  adverted  to,  the  conclusion  seems  in-  f 
evitable  that  she  was  the  subject  of  a fictitious,  or, 
if  the  expression  be  allowed,  a poetical  passion. 
Her  rank,  which  was  superior  to  that  of  Wyatt,  if 
not  her  virtue,  makes  it  impossible  to  believe  that 
he  contemplated  an  illicit  connection,  and  his  OAvn 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


XV 


marriage  proves  that  he  could  not  have  sought  her 
hand.  If,  as  has  been  conjectured,^  the  two  lines,. 

“ And  now  I follow  the  coals  that  be  quent 
From  Dover  to  Calais  against  my  mind,” 

mean  that  he  formed  one  of  her  retinue  when,  as 
Marchioness  of  Pembroke,  she  accompanied  Henry 
to  Calais,  in  1532,  it  is  singular  that  his  name  should 
not  occur  among  the  many  persons  who  are  noticed 
in  the  account  of  the  expenses  of  that  voyage.  Two 
sonnets  have  been  particularly  cited  to  substantiate 
the  opinion  that  he  was  attached  to  Anne  Boleyn. 
One  t of  these  is  that  in  which  he  says,  that  though 
May  was  generally  propitious  to  love,  misfortunes 
had  often  befallen  him  in  that  month,  and  after 
adding  that  this  had  been  predicted  at  his  nativity, 
he  thus  concludes : — 

“ In  May  my  wealth,  and  eke  my  wits  I say 
Have  stond  so  oft  in  such  perplexity.” 

As  Anne  Boleyn  was  tried  and  executed  in  May, 
and  as  it  was  attempted  to  implicate  Wyatt  in  the 
misconduct  of  which  she  was  accused,  these  lines 
have  been  presumed  to  refer  to  that  circumstance. 
The  other  Sonnet  is  that  in  which  he  says,]: 

“ Who  list  her  hunt,  1 put  him  out  of  doubt 
As  well  as  I,  may  spend  his  time  in  vain ! 

And  graven  with  diamonds  in  letters  plain. 

There  is  written  her  fair  neck  round  about: 

‘Noli  me  tangere;  for  Csesar’s  I am. 

And  wild  for  to  hold,  though  I seem  tame.’  ” 


* Nott,  p.  xxiii. 


t See  p.  5. 


t See  p.  18. 


Xvi  MEMOIR  OF 

The  first  of  these  passages  may  be  supposed  with 
equal,  if  not  greater  probability,  to  refer  to  some 
other  circumstance  rather  than  to  the  accusation 
that  he  had  been  criminally  connected  with  the 
Queen,  for  not  merely  were  “ his  wealth  and  wits  ” 
brought  into  “ perplexity,  but  his  life  itself  was  then 
endangered ; ’’  and  admitting  that  the  other  sonnet 
did  allude  to  her,  it  by  no  means  establishes  the 
existence  of  tenderness  or  regret  that  she  was 
another’s  : on  the  contrary,  it  speaks  of  her  con- 
nection with  the  King  in  a tone  of  levity  which 
cannot  be  reconciled  with  the  feelings  of  a lover. 

Those  who  believe  in  an  attachment,  whether  pla- 
tonic or  otherwise,  between  Wyatt  and  Anne  Boleyn, 
trace  an  alteration  in  his  poetry  to  the  effect  which 
her  fate  produced  on  his  mind.  It  is  easy  to  sup- 
port a favorite  theory,  and  the  task  is  an  ungracious 
one  to  destroy  those  tales  which  impart  a romantic 
interest  to  eminent  personages ; but  there  is  no 
proof  whatever  of  the  period  when  the  alteration  in 
^ his  pieces  took  place,  or  to  show  that  it  did  not  arise 
from  those  great  sedatives  to  a poetical  or  amorous 
imagination  — years  and  experience. 

The  suspicion  which  Wyatt  incurred,  with  respect 
to  Anne . Boleyn,  soon  passed  away  ; and  it  is  said 
that  on  Easter  Day,  16th  April,  1536,  he  received 
the  honor  of  Knighthood,  though,  as  will  afterwards 
appear,  there  is*  ground  for  assigning  that  distinction 
to  the  following  year.  Very  soon  afterwards,  how- 
ever, he  fell  under  Henry’s  displeasure,  and  was 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xvu 


committed  to  the  tower,  but  the  precise  nature  of 
his  offence  has  not  been  ascertained,  and  all  which 
is  known  about  it  is  that  it  arose  from  a personal 
quarrel  with  the  Duke  of  Suffolk.  Plis  confinement 
was  short ; and  soon  after  his  liberation  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  a command  in  the  army,  with  which  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk  was  about  to  subdue  a rebellion  in 
Lincolnshire.  The  rebels  were,  however,  dispersed 
before  he  joined  the  Duke ; and  in  the  ensuing  year 
he  was  Sheriff  of  Kent,  an  office  which  he  says  was 
indicative  of  the  King’s  special  confidence.^ 

It  has  been  considered  that  in  1537  Wyatt  was 
appointed  Henry’s  ambassador  to  the  Emperor,  but 
if  the  date  of  his  Knighthood  be  correct,  his  in- 
structions must  have  been  issued  before  April,  1536, 
as  he  is  therein  called  an  “ Esquire.”  The  purport 
of  his  mission,  which  is  fully  explained  in  that  docu- 
ment, was  to  remove  the  animosity  the  Emperor  had 
entertained  against  Henry,  in  consequence  of  his 
having  divorced  Katherine  of  Arragon,  and  to  pre- 
vent his  annoying  him  with  the  claims  of  the  Prin- 
cess Mary.f  Wyatt’s  despatches  whilst  on  this 
mission  are  not  preserved,  but  from  the  letters 
which  were  addressed  to  him  by  Cromwell,  the 
Lord  Privy  Seal,  it  appears  that  his  conduct  gave 
great  satisfaction  to  his  sovereign.];  Those  letters 

* See  his  defence  appended  to  this  Memoir. 

t These  instructions  and  the  other  State  Papers  relating  to 
Wyatt’s  Embassies  were  printed  by  Dr.  Nott. 

X The  first  of  these  letters,  all  of  which  are  printed  by  Nott,  is 


XVlll 


MEMOIR  OF 


refer  cliiefly  to  official  business  connected  with  his 
embassy,  but  a few  passages  relating  to  Wyatt  per- 
sonally may  be  selected  from  them.  On  the  8th 
July,  1537,  Cromwell  told  him:  — 

“ For  all  the  haste  I would  not  omit  to  advertise 
you,  that  some,  your  servants  here,  be  called  and 
named  common  stealers  of  the  King’s  hawks.  I 
nvould  ye  should  give  them  warning  that  they  shall 
leave  such  pranks,  and  that  ye  will  be  no  main- 
tainer  of  such  unlawful  fellows  of  light  disposition ; 
and  write  unto  them  earnestly.” 

On  the  10th  of  October  he  was  informed  by 
Cromwell : — 

“ And  as  for  your  diet  and  post  money,  I shall  see 
you  shall  have  them  paid  according  to  your  warrant : 
and  in  the  rest  of  your  affairs  I shall  be  such  a 
friend  unto  you,  if  need  require,  as  your  enemies,  if 
you  have  any,  shall  win  little  at  your  hands  in  your 
absence.  Your  brother  Anthony,^  he  hath  been  in 
the  porter’s  lodge  for  consenting  to  the  stealing  of 
certain  of  the  King’s  hawks : and  your  sister  suing 
for  his  deliverance,  hath  been  here  with  me  at 
Mortlake ; they  be  both  merry : and  the  King’s 
Highness  is  now  again  good  Lord  unto  him.” 

Either  from  habitual  negligence,  or  from  being 

dated  29th  June,  1537.  As  it  was  addressed  to  “ Sir  Thomas 
Wyat,  Knight,”  it  may  be  inferred  that  he  was  knighted  im- 
mediately before  he  left  England  instead  of  in  April,  1536. 

* Apparently  Sir  Anthony  Lee,  his  brother-i»-?aw,  the  husband 
of  his  sister  Margaret. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


XXXI 


his  destined  port,  after  a tempestuous  and  dangerous 
voyage.  In  this  production  he  confesses  that  his 
love  of  fame  had  seduced  him  from  a more  philo- 
sophic estimate  of  life, 

“ I grant,  sometime  of  Glory  that  the  fire 
Doth  touch  my  heart.” 

He  then  mentions  the  various  base  qualifications 
necessary  for  a courtier,  and  admits  his  deficiency 
therein : — 

“ My  Poins,  I cannot  frame  my  tune  to  feign, 

To  cloak  the  truth,  for  praise  without  desert 
Of  them  that  list  all  vice  for  to  retain. 

I cannot  honour  them  that  set  their  part 
With  Venus,  and  Bacchus,  all  their  life  long; 

Nor  hold  my  peace  of  them,  although  I smart. 

I cannot  crouch  nor  kneel  to  such  a wrong ; 

To  worship  them-like  God  on  earth  alone. 

That  are  as  wolves  these  sely  lambs  among. 

1 cannot  with  my  words  complain  and  moan, 

And  suffer  nought ; nor  smart  without  complaint : 

Nor  turn  the  word  that  from  my  mouth  is  gone. 

I cannot  speak  and  look  like  as  a saint ; 

Use  wiles  for  wit,  and  make  deceit  a pleasure ; 

Call  craft  counsel,  for  lucre  still  to  paint. 

I cannot  wrest  the  law  to  fill  the  coffer.” 

After  proceeding  in  a similar  strain  for  some  time, 
he  thus  concludes : — 

« 

“ This  is  the  cause  that  I could  never  yet 
Hang  on  their  sleeves  that  weigh,  as  thou  mayst  see, 

A chip  of  chance  more  than  a pound  of  wit : 

This  maketh  me  at  home  to  hunt  and  hawk ; 

And  in  foul  weather  at  my  book  to  sit ; 

In  frost  and  snow,  then  with  my  bow  to  stalk ; 

No  man  doth  mark  whereso  I ride  or  go : 


XXXll 


MEMOIR  OF 


In  lusty  leas  at  liberty  I walk; 

And  of  these  news  I feel  nor  weal  nor  woe:  ” 

“ iSTor  I am  not,  'where  truth  is  given  in  prey 
For  money,  poison,  and  treason ; of  some 
A common  practice,  used  night  and  day. 

But  I am  here  in  Kent  and  Christendom, 

Among  the  Muses,  where  I read  and  rhj^me; 

Where  if  thou  list,  mine  own  John  Poins,  to  come, 

Thou  shalt  be  judge  how  I do  spend  my  time.” 

In  this  peaceable  and  happy  manner  Wyatt  passed 
the  winter  of  1541,  and  the  spring  and  summer  of 
1542  ; and  during  this  period  he  composed  the  seven 
penitential  psalms,  an  employment  indicative  of  the 
serious  nature  of  his  thoughts,  rather  than,  as  Dr. 
Nott  has  imagined,  of  remorse  or  even  regret  for  his 
previous  career.  Part  of  his  leisure  was  also  given 
• to  the  care  and  education  of  his  nephew,  Henry  Lee  ; 
and  he  bestowed  much  of  his  time  in  improving  his 
mansion  and  estate  of  Allington.  Leland  says,  that 
about  this  period  Sir  Thomas  commanded  one  of 
the  ships  of  Henry’s  navy,  but  tlie  statement  is  not 
corroborated  by  any  other  writer. 

On  the  arrival  of  ambassadors  from  the  Emperor, 
in  the  autumn  of  1542,  the  King  commanded  Wyatt 
to  meet  them  at  Falmouth,  and  conduct  them  to 
London ; but  the  execution  of  this  mandate  cost  him 
his  life.  The  weather  wms  extremely  unfavourable 
for  travelling,  and  having  overheated  himself  by 
his  journey,  he  was  seized  with  a fever  at  Sher- 
borne. Horsey,  one  of  his  intimate  friends,  who 
lived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  that  tOMui,  hastened 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


XXXlll 


to  liis  aid,  but  bis  kindness  proved  unavailing.  After 
lingering  a few  days  under  a malignant  fever,  bis 
constitution  gave  way,  and  be  expired  on  tbe  10th 
or  lltb  of  October,  1542,  in  his  thirty-ninth  year. 
Horsey  performed  the  last  offices  of  friendship,  by 
closing  Wyatt’s  eyes,  and  attending  his  remains  to 
their  final  resting-place,  in  the  family  vault  of  the 
Horsey  family,  in  the  great  church  of  Sherborne, 
but  no  inscription  marks  the  spot  where  he  was 
interred. 

Few  men  ever  possessed  a more  unblemished 
reputation,  or  died  more  sincerely  regretted  and 
esteemed  than  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt.  His  talents  and 
accomplishments,  great  as  they  undoubtedly  were, 
yielded  even  to  the  higher  qualities  of  frankness, 
integrity,  and  honour,  in  obtaining  him  the  appro- 
bation and  love  of  his  contemporaries ; and  to  judge 
from  the  numerous  elegies  by  which  minds  of  kindred 
excellence  sought  to  commemorate  his  worth,  Wyatt 
possessed  the  advantage  of  being  appreciated  by 
those  whose  praise  is  fame.  His  poems  sufficiently 
attest  the  variety  and  scope  of  his  abihties;  and, 
like  those  of  his  friend  Surrey,  they  are  free  from 
the  slightest  impurity  of  thought  or  expression. 
He  spoke  several  languages,  and  was  so  richly 
stored ' with  classical  literature,  that  the  erudite 
Camden  says  he  was  “ splendide  doctus.”  His 
prose  is  forcible  and  clear,  and  occasionally  ani- 
mated and  eloquent.  He  excelled  on  the  lute,  and 
was  eminent  for  his  conversational  powers ; but  all 
0 


XXXIV 


MEMOIR  OF 


these  merits  were  exceeded  by  the  agreeable  quali- 
ties of  his  private  character.  In  person  Wyatt  was 
eminently  handsome.  Tall,  and  of  a commanding 
presence,  elegantly  formed,  and  ^fted  with  a coun- 
tenance of  manly  beauty. 

Dr.  Nott  has  collected  many  of  Wyatt’s  witti- 
cisms, or  rather  “ sayings,”  which  will  be  introduced 
in  that  learned  person’s  own  words : — 

“ One  day  as  the  king  was  conversing  with  Wyatt 
on  the  suppression  of  monasteries,  he  expressed  his 
apprehension  on  the  subject,  saying,  he  foresaw  it 
would  excite  general  alarm  should  the  crown  resume 
to  itself  such  extensive  possessions  as  those  belong- 
ing to  the  church.  ^True,  Sire,’  replied  Wyatt; 
^ but  what  if  the  rook’s  nest  were  buttered  ? ’ Henry 
understood  the  force  and  application  of  the  proverb, 
•and  is  said  from  that  moment  to  have  formed  the 
design  of  making  the  nobility  a party  in  the  transac- 
tion, by  giving  to  them  a portion  of  the  church  lands. 

At  a still  earlier  period  of  the  business,  Henry, 
who  passionately  desired  the  divorce,  had  expressed 
some  scruples  about  urging  it  from  the  opposition 
raised  by  the  Pope.  Wyatt,  who  witnessed  the 
King’s  perplexity,  is  said  to  have  exclaimed  in  his 
hearing ; ‘ Heavens  ! that  a man  cannot  repent  him 
of  his  sins  without  the  Pope’s  leave.’  This  speech, 
as  was  designed,  sunk  deep  into  the  King's  mind ; 
and  disposed  him  the  more  readily  to  adopt  the 
measure  proposed  by  Cranmer  of  consulting  the 
universities. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


XXXV 


Connected  with  the  progress  of  the  Reformation 
was  the  doAvnfall  of  Wolsej.  That  powerful  favour- 
ite had  gained  so  strong  a hold  in  the  affections  of 
the  King  his  master,  that  his  ruin  was  not  effected 
but  by  slow  degrees,  and  that  too  by  a union  of  all 
the  ancient  nobility  of  the  kingdom,  with  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk  at  their  head.  Wyatt  was  deemed  of 
sufficient  importance  id  be  ranked  as  one  of  their 
party,  and  is  said  to  have  contributed  in  a great 
degree  to  their  success.  For,  coming  one  day  into 
the  King’s  presence,  when  he  happened  to  be  angry 
with  the  Cardinal,  and  spoke  of  him  in  terms  of  dis- 
pleasure, Wyatt  immediately  laid  hold  of  the  occasion 
to  tell  a humorous  story  of  some  curs  baiting  a 
butcher’s  dog,  which  we  are  told  ^contained  the 
whole  method  of  Wolsey’s  ruin.’”^ 

When  the  King  once  urged  him  to  dance  at  one 
of  those  splendid  midnight  masks  with  which  he  so 
often  indulged  the  court,  Wyatt  with  great  modesty 
excused  himself ; and  when  Henry  pressed  him  for 
his  reason,  he  replied,  ‘ Sir ! he  who  would  be 
thought  a wise  man  in  the  daytime,  must  not  play 
the  fool  at  night.’  ” 

On  hearing  a person  jesting  on  matters  of  a seri- 
ous nature,  he  is  reported  to  have  reproved  him  by 
saying,  It  does  not  become  Christians  to  do  so.  If 
the  Athenians  would  not  permit  a comedian  to  ex- 

* As  this  must  have  occurred  before  Wyatt  was  nineteen,  its 
truth  may  perhaps  be  doubted,  since  it  is  nowhere  shown  that 
he  was  then  about  the  court. 


XXXVl 


MEMOIR  OF 


hibit  his  farces  on  the  scene  where  Euripides  had 
acted  his  grave  and  solemn  tragedies,  much  less 
ought  we  to  suffer  the  levity  of  a joke  to  come  as  it 
were  into  the  presence  of  things  holy  and  religious.” 

^^One  day  as  Wyatt  ^ was  conversing  with  the 
King  he  said  playfully  to  him ; ^ Sir,  I have  at  last 
found  out  a benefice  that  must  needs  make  me  a 
rich  man,  for  it  would  give  me  a hundred  pounds  a 
year  more  than  I could  want.  I beseech  your 
Majesty  bestow  it  on  me.’  ‘Ha!’  quoth  the  King, 
‘ we  knew  not  that  we  had  any  such  in  our  king- 
dom 1’  ‘ Yes,  in  good  faith.  Sir,  ’ replied  Wyatt,  ‘ there 
is  one  such ! The  Provostship  of  Eton  I There 
a man  hath  his  diet,  his  lodging,  his  horse  meat,  his 
servants’  wages,  and  riding  charges,  and  a hundred 
pounds  a year  beside.’ 

“ It  vfas  one  of  his  common  sayings,  ‘ Let  my 
friend  bring  me  into  court ; but  let  my  merit  and 
my  service  keep  me  there.’  In  a jest  he  was  used 
to  say  three  things  should  be  observed.  ‘Never  to 
play  upon  any  man’s  unhappiness  or  deformity,  for 

* Leland  has  preserved  a circumstance  respecting  Wyatt, 
■which,  as  it  is  descriptive  of  his  turn  of  mind,  deserves  here  to 
be  repeated.  He  states  that  Wyatt’s  favourite  ring,  with  which 
he  always  sealed  his  letters,  was  a beautiful  antique  gem,  with 
Julius  Csesar’^s  head  on  an  agate,  that  Wyatt’s  predilection  for 
it  arose  from  his  admiration  of  Csesar’s  character;  and  that  he 
used  it  that  the  memory  of  so  great  a man,  being  constantly 
present  to  his  mind,  he  might  himself  be  stimulated  to  generous 
exertion,  and  do  something  worthy  of  eternal  record.  — See 
Leland' s Ncenia^  v.  172. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xxxvn 


that  is  inhuman ; nor  on  superiors,  for  that  is  saucy 
and  undutiful ; nor  on  holy  matters,  for  that  is  irre- 
ligious.’ ” 

Leland  asserts  that  Wyatt  cherished  three  friends 
more  particularly  than  the  rest,  namely,  Poynings 
for  the  generosity  of  his  disposition.  Blaze  for  his 
wit,  and  Mason  for  his  learning ; but  his  writings 
and  other  circumstances  show  that  the  Earl  of 
Surrey,  Sir  Francis  Bryan,  and  John  Poins,  or 
Poyntz,  were  specially  favoured  with  his  regard. 
Lloyd  says  “ there  were  four  things  for  which  men 
went  to  dine  with  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  First,  his 
generous  entertainment  ; secondly,  his  free  and 
knowing  discourse  of  Spain  and  Germany,  an  in- 
sight into  whose  interests  was  his  masterpiece,  they 
having  been  studied  by  him  for  his  own  satisfaction 
as  well  as  for  the  exigency  of  the  times ; thirdly,  his 
quickness  in  observing,  his  civility  in  entertaining, 
his  dexterity  in  employing,  and  his  readiness  in  en- 
couraging every  man’s  peculiar  parts  and  inclina- 
tions ; and  lastly,  the  favour  and  notice  with  which 
he  was  honoured  by  the  King ! ” 

By  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  Lord  Cobham,  who 
survived  him,  and  married  secondly  Sir  Edward 
Warner,  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  left  an  only  son, 
Thomas,  who  must  have  been  born  about  1521,  as 
he  was  found  of  full  age  in  October,  1542.  He 
married,  at  the  early  age  of  fifteen,  Jane,  daughter 
and  coheir  of  Sir  William  Hawte,  of  Bourne  in  Kent ; 
and  soon  after  that  time  he  received  the  two  follow- 


MEMOIR  OF 


xxxviii 

ing  inimitable  letters  of  advice  and  instruction  from 
liis  father,  who  was  then  in  Spain,  extracts  from 
which  deserve  to  be  inscribed,  in  letters  of  gold,  in  a 
conspicuous  part  of  every  place  of  instruction  for 
youth  in  the  world. 

LETTER  I. 

“ In  as  much  as  now  ye  are  come  to  some  years 
of  understanding,  and  that  you  should  gather  within 
yourself  some  frame  of  Honesty,  I thought  that  I 
should  not  lose  my  labour  wholly  if  now  I did  some- 
thing advertise  you  to  take  the  sure  foundations  and 
stablished  opinions  that  leadeth  to  Honesty. 

“ And  here,  I call  not  Honesty  that,  men  com- 
monly call  Honesty,  as  reputation  for  riches,  for 
authority,  or  some  like  thing;  but  that  Honesty, 
that  I dare  well  say  your  grandfather,  (whose  soul 
God  pardon,)  had  rather  left  to  me  than  all  the  lands 
he  did  leave  me ; that  was.  Wisdom,  Gentleness, 
Soberness,  desire  to  do  Good,  Friendliness  to  get 
the  love  of  many,  and  Truth  above  all  the  rest.  A 
great  part  to  have  all  tjiese  things  is  to  desire  to 
have  them.  And  although  glory  and  honest  name 
are  not  the  very  ends  wherefore  these  things  are  to 
be  followed,  yet  surely  they  must  needs  follow  them 
as  light  followeth  fire,  though  it  were  kindled  for 
warmth. 

Out  of  these  things  the  chiefest  and  infallible 
ground  is  the  dread  and  reverence  of  God,  where- 
upon shall  ensue  the  eschewing  of  the  contraries  of 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xxxix 


these  said  virtues ; that  is  to  saj,  ignorance,  unkind- 
ness, rashness,  desire  of  harm,  unquiet  enmitj,. 
hatred,  many  and  crafty  falsehood,  the  very  root  of 
all  shame  and  dishonesty.  I say,  the  only  dread 
and  reverence  of  God,  that  seeth  all  things,  is  the 
defence  of  the  creeping  in  of  all  these  mischiefs  into 
you.  And  for  my  part,  although  I do  well  say  there 
is  no  man  that  would  his  son  better  than  I,  yet  on 
my  faith  I had  rather  have  you  lifeless,  than  subject 
to  these  vices. 

Think  and  imagine  always  that  you  are  in  presence 
of  some  honest  man  that  you  know;  as  Sir  John 
Russell,  your  Father-in-law,  your  Uncle  Parson,  or 
some  other  such,  and  ye  shall,  if  at  any  time  you 
find  a pleasure  in  naughty  touches,  remember  what 
shame  it  were  afore  these  men  to  do  naughtily. 
And  sure  this  imagination  shall  cause  you  remem- 
ber, that  the  pleasure  of  a naughty  deed  is  soon  past, 
and  the  rebuke,  shame,  and  the  note  thereof  shall 
remain  ever.  Then,  if  these  things  ye  take  for  vain 
imaginations,  yet  remember  that  it  is  certain,  and  no 
imagination,  that  ye  are  alway  in  the  presence  and 
sight  of  God : and  though  you  see  him  not,  so  much 
is  the  reverence  the  more  to  be  had  for  that  He 
seeth,  and  is  not  seen. 

“ Men  punish  with  shame  as  greatest  punishment 
on  earth,  yea ! greater  than  death ; but  His  punish- 
ment is,  first,  the  withdrawing  of  his  favour,  and 
grace,  and  in  leaving  his  hand  to  rule  the  stern  to 
let  the  ship  run  without  guide  to  its  own  destruct- 


xl 


MEMOIR  OP 


tion ; and  sufFeretli  so  the  man  that  he  forsaketh  to 
run  headlong  as  subject  to  all  mishaps,  and  at  last 
with  shameful  end  to  everlasting  shame  and  death. 
Ye  may  see  continual  examples  both  of  the  one  sort, 
and  of  the  other ; and  the  better,  if  ye  mark  them  well 
that  yourself  are  come  of ; and  consider  well  your 
good  grandfather,  what  things  there  were  in  him, 
and  his  end.  And  they  that  knew  him  noted  him 
thus ; first,  and  chiefly  to  have  a great  reverence  of 
God  and  good  opinion  of  godly  things.  Next  that, 
there  was  no  man  more  pitiful ; no  man  more  true 
of  his  word ; no  man  faster  to  his  friend ; no  man 
diligenter  nor  more  circumspect,  which  thing,  both 
the  Kings  his  masters  noted  in  him  greatly.  And 
if  these  things,  and  specially  the  grace  of  God  that 
the  fear  of  God  alway  kept  with  him,  had  not  been, 
the  chances  of  this  troublesome  world  that  he  was 
in  had  long  ago  overwhelmed  him.  This  preserved 
him  in  prison  from  the  hands  of  the  tyrant^  that 
could  find  in  his  heart  to  see  him  racked ; from  two 
years  and  more  prisonment  in  Scotland  in  irons  and 
stocks ; from  the  danger  of  sudden  changes  and  com- 
motions divers,  till  that  well  beloved  of  many,  hated 
of  none,  in  his  fair  age,  and  good  reputation,  godly 
and  christianly  he  went  to  Him  that  loved  him,  for 
that  he  always  had  Him  in  reverence. 

“ And  of  myselfj  I may  be  a near  example  unto 
you  of  my  folly  and  unthriftness,  that  hath,  as  I well 


* Richard  the  Third. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xli 


deserved,  brought  me  into  a thousand  dangers  and 
hazards,  enmities,  hatreds,  prisonments,  despites,  and 
indignations ; but  that  God  hath  of  his  goodness  chas- 
tised me,  and  not  cast  me  clean  out  of  his  favour ; 
which  thing  I can  impute  to  nothing  but  to  the  good- 
ness of  my  good  father,  that,  1 dare  well  say  purchased 
with  continual  request  of  God  his  Grace  towards  me 
more  than  I regarded,  or  considered  myself ; and  a 
little  part  to  the  small  fear  that  I had  of  God  in  the 
most  of  my  rage,  and  the  little  delight  that  I had  in 
mischief.  You  therefore  if  ye  be  sure,  and  have 
God  in  your  sleeve  to  call  you  to  his  grace  at  last, 
venture  hardily  by  mine  example  upon  naughty  un- 
thriftiness, in  trust  of  his  goodness ; and  besides  the 
shame,  I dare  lay  ten  to  one  ye  shall  perish  in  the 
adventure ; for  trust  me,  that  my  wish  or  desire  of 
God  for  you  shall  not  stand  you  in  as  much  effect, 
as  I think  my  father’s  did  for  me : we  are  not  all  ac- 
cepted of  Him. 

Begin  therefore  betimes.  Make  God  and  good- 
ness your  foundations.  Make  your  examples  of  wise 
and  honest  men  : shoot  at  that  mark : be  no  mocker : 
mocks  follow  them  that  delight  therein.  He  shajl  be 
sure  of  shame  that  feeleth  no  grief  in  other  men’s 
shames.  Have  your  friends  in  a reverence ; and 
think'unkindness  to  be  the  greatest  offence,  and  least 
punished  amongst  men ; but  so*  much  the  more  to  be 
dread,  for  God  is  justiser  upon  that  alone. 

“ Love  well,  and  agree  with  your  wife ; for  where 
is  noise  and  debate  in  the  house  there  is  unquiet 


xlii 


MEMOIR  OF 


dwelling;  and  much  more,  where  it  is  in  one  bed. 
Frame  well  yourself  to  love  and  rule  well  and 
honestly  your  wife  as  your  fellow,  and  she  shall 
love  and  reverence  you  as  her  head.  Such  as  you 
are  unto  her,  such  shall  she  he  unto  you.  Obey 
and  reverence  your  father-in-law,  as  you  would 
me ; and  remember  that  long  life  followeth  them 
that  reverence  their  fathers  and  elders;  and  the 
blessing  of  God,  for  good  agreement  between  the 
wufe  and  husband,  is  fruit  of  many  children. 

Read  oft  this  my  letter,  and  it  shall  be  as  though 
I had  often  written  to  you ; and  think  that  I have 
herein  printed  a fatherly  affection  to  you.  If  I may 
see  that  I have  not  lost  my  pain,  mine  shall  be  the 
contentation,  and  yours  the  profit ; and,  upon  con- 
dition that  you  follow  my  advertisement,  I send  you 
God’s  blessing  and  mine,  and  as  well  to  come  to 
honesty,  as  to  increase  of  years/’ 

LETTER  II. 

I DOUBT  not  but  long  ere  this  time  my  letters 
are  come  to  you.  I remember  I wrote  to  you  in 
them,  that  if  you  read  them  often  it  shall  be  as 
though  I had  written  often  to  you.  For  all  that, 
I cannot  so  content  me  but  still  to  call  upon  you 
with  my  letters.  I would  not  for  all  that,  that  if 
any  thing  be  well  warned  in  the  other  that  you 
should  leave  to  remember  it  because  of  this  new. 
For  it  is  not  like  with  advertisements  as  it  is  with 
apparel  that  wkh  long  wearing  a man  casteth  away, 


Sm  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xliii 


when  he  hath  new.  Honest  teachings  never  wear  ; 
unless  they  wear  out  of  his  remembrance  that  should 
keep  and  follow  them,  to  the  shame  and  hurt  of 
himself.  Think  not  also  that  I have  any  new  or 
change  of  advertisements  to  send  you ; but  still  it 
is  one  that  I would.  I have  nothing  to  cry  and 
call  upon  you  for  but  Honesty,  Honesty.  It  may 
be  diversely  named,  but  alway  it  tendeth  to  one 
end ; and  as  I wrote  to  you  last,  I mean  not  that 
Honesty  that  the  common  sort  calleth  an  honest  man. 
Trust  me,  that  honest  man  is  as  common  a name 
as  the  name  of  a good  fellow;  that  is  to  say,  a 
drunkard,  a tavern  haunter,  a rioter,  a gamer,  a 
waster.  So  are  among  the  common  sort  all  men 
honest  men  that  are  not  known  for  manifest  naughty 
knaves. 

Seek  not  I pray  thee,  my  Son,  that  Honesty 
which  appeareth,  and  is  not  indeed.  Be  well  as- 
sured it  is  no  common  thing,  nor  no  common  man’s 
judgment  to  judge  well  of  Honesty ; nor  it  is  no 
common  thing  to  come  by ; but  so  much  it  is  the 
more  goodly,  for  that  it  is  so  rare  and  strange. 

“Follow  not  therefore  the  common  reputation  of 
Flonesty.  If  you  will  seem  honest,  be  honest ; or 
else  seem  as  you  are.  Seek  not  the  name  without 
the  thing ; nor  let  not  the  name  be  the  only  mark 
you  shoot  at:  that  will  follow  though  you  regard 
it  not ; yea ! and  the  more  you  regard  it,  the  less. 
I mean  not  by  regard  it  not,  esteem  it  not ; for  well 
I wot  honest  name  is  goodly.  But  he  that  hunteth 


xliv 


MEMOIR  OE 


only  for  that,  is  like  him  that  had  rather  seem  warm 
than  be  warm.,  and  edgeth  a single  coat  about  with 
a fur.  Honest  name  is  to  be  kept,  preserved,  and 
defended,  and  not  to  employ  all  a man’s  wit  about 
the  study  of  it ; for  that  smelleth  of  a glorious  and 
ambitious  fool.  I say,  as  I wrote  unto  you  in  my 
last  letters,  get  the  thing,  and  the  other  must  of  ne- 
cessity follow,  as  the  shadow  followeth  the  thing  that 
it  is  of ; and  even  so  much  is  the  very  Honesty 
better  than  the  name,  as  the  thing  is  better  than  the 
shadow. 

“ The  coming  to  this  point  that  I would  so  fain 
have  you  have,  is  to  consider  a man’s  own  self  what 
he  is,  and  wherefore  he  is ; and  herein  let  him  think 
verily  that  so  goodly  a work  as  man  is,  for  w^hom 
all  other  things  were  wrought,  was  not  wrought  but 
for  goodly  things.  After  a man  hath  gotten  a will 
and  desire  to  them,  is  first  to  avoid  evil,  and  learn 
that  point  alone : ‘ Never  to  do  that,  that  within 
yourself  you  find  a certain  grudging  against.’  No 
doubt  in  any  thing  you  do,  if  you  ask  yourself,  or 
examine  the  thing  in  yourself  afore  you  do  it,  you 
shall  find,  if  it  be  evil,  a repining  against  it.  My 
Son ! for  our  Lord’s  love  keep  well  that  repining ; 
suffer  it  not  to  be  darked  and  corrupted  by  naughty 
example,  as  though  any  thing  were  to  you  excusable 
because  other  men  do  the  same.  That  same  repin- 
ing, if  it  did  punish  as  he  doth  judge,  there  were  no 
such  justicer  ; and  of  truth,  so  doth  it  punish;  but 
not  so  apparently.  Here  however  it  is  no  small 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xlv 


grief,  of  a conscience  that  condemneth  itself;  but 
be  well  assured,  after  this  life  it  is  a continual 
gnawing. 

When  there  is  a custom  gotten  of  avoiding  to 
do  evil,  then  cometh  a gentle  courage.  Be  content 
to  be  idle,  and  to  rest  without  doing  any  thing. 
Then  too  had  ye  need  to  gather  an  heap  of  good 
opinions  and  to  get  them  perfectly,  as  it  were  on 
your  fingers’  ends.  Rest  not  greatly  upon  the  ap- 
proving of  them;  take  them  as  already  approved, 
because  they  were  of  honest  men’s  leavings.  Of 
them  of  God,  there  is  no  question;  and  it  is  no 
small  help  to  them,  the  good  opinion  of  moral  phi- 
losophers, among  whom  I would  Seneca  [in]  your 
study ; and  Epictetus,  because  it  is  little,  to  be  ever 
in  bosom. 

“These  things  shall  lead  you  to  know  goodly 
[things] ; which  when  a man  knoweth  and  taketh 
pleasure  in  them,  he  is  a beast  that  followeth  not 
them : no,  nor  he  cannot  but  follow  them.  But  take 
this  for  conclusion  and  sum  of  all ; that  if  God  and 
his  Grace  be  not  the  foundation,  neither  can  ye 
avoid  evil,  nor  judge  well,  nor  do  any  goodly  thing. 
Let  Him  be  foundation  of  all.  Will  these  things ; 
desire  them  earnestly,  and  seek  them  at  his  hands, 
and  knowledge  them  to  come  of  Him,  and  question- 
less He  will  both  give  you  the  use  and  pleasure  in 
using  them,  and  also  reward  you  for  them  that  come 
of  Him ; so  liberal  and  good  is  He. 


Xlvi  MEMOIR  OF 

I would  fain  see  that  my  letters  might  work  to 
frame  you  honest.  And  think  that  without  that,  I 
esteem  nothing  of  you : no ! not  that  you  are  my 
son.  For  I reckon  it  no  small  dishonesty  to  myself 
to  have  an  unhonest  taught  child : but  the  fault  shall 
not  be  in  me.  I shall  do  the  part  of  a father  : and 
if  you  answer  not  to  that  I looksfor  at  your  hands,  I 
shall  as  well  study  with  that  that  I shall  leave,  to 
make  such  [some]  honest  man,  as  you.” 

As  he  is  often  styled  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  the 
younger,”  it  seems  that  he  was  knighted  in  his 
father’s  lifetime  ; and,  as  the  companion  of  Lord 
Surrey,  he  once  shared  in  a mischievous  frolic, 
which  caused  their  imprisonment.*  A memoir  of 
the  younger  Wyatt  may  be  found  in  Dr.  JSTott’s 
edition  of  his  father’s  works ; and  all  which  it  is 
necessary  to  add  about  him  is,  that  he  served  with 
distinction  under  the  Earl  of  Surrey  at  Boulogne, 
in  1545,  who,  in  one  of  his  letters  to -the  King,  thus 
bore  testimony  to  his  merits:  — 

“ I assure  your  majesty  you  have  framed  him  to 
such  towardness  and  knowledge  in  the  war,  that, 
none  other  dispraised,  your  majesty  hath  not  many 
like  him  within  your  realm  for  hardiness,  painfulness, 
and  circumspection,  and  natural  disposition  to  the 
war.” 


* See  Memoir  of  Surrey,  p.  xxii. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xlvii 


Having  joined  in  the  effort  to  place  Lady  Jane 
Grey  on  the  throne,  he  was  condemned,  and  executed 
for  high  treason,  on  the  11th  April,  1554.  He  left 
a numerous  family,  and  his  grandson.  Sir  Francis 
Wyatt,  of  Bexley  in  Kent,  was  living  in  the  reign 
of  James  the  First,  and  had  two  sons,  Henry  and 
Francis. 


xlviii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


SIK  THOMAS  WYATT^S  LETTER  TO  THE 
PRIVY  COUNCIL  IN  1541  * 

PLEASE  IT  YOUR  GOOD  LORDSHIPS 
TO  UNDERSTAND  : 

I HAYE  knowledge  hj  Mr.  Lieutenant  that  the 
King’s  pleasure  is,  and  your  commandment,  that  I 
should  write  and  declare  such  things  as  have  passed 
me  wUilst  I was  in  the  Emperor’s  court,  by  word, 
writing,  communing,  or  receiving,  with  or  from  any 
manj  whereby  I know  myself  to  have  offended,  or 
whereby  I might  run  in  suspect  of  offence ; namely, 
in  the  time  of  that  Court  being  at  Nice,  and  Villa 
Ph’anca. 

First;  like  as  I take  God  to  record  in  whom  I 
trust  to  be  saved,  and  whose  redemption  I forsake  if 
wittingly  I lie ; so  do  I humbly  in  his  name  beseech 
you  ail,  that  in  those  things  that  be  not  fresh  in  my 
memory  no  captious  advantage  be  taken  of  me  : pro- 
fessing always  that  if  my  self  can  by  any  means,  or 
your  Lordships,  or  any  other,  reduce  any  other 
thing  than  I shall  touch  to  my  remembrance,  sin- 
cerely and  uncolourabiy  from  time  to  time  to  declare 
the  truth  in  prison,  or  out.  And  for  my  part  I 
declare  affirmingly  at  all  proofs  whereby  a Christian 
man  may  be  tried,  that  in  my  life  in  crime  towards 


* See  page  xix.  ante. 


SIR  THOMAS  AYYATT. 


xlix 


the  Majesty  of  the  King  my  master,  or  any  his  issue 
in  deed,  writing,  or  wish,  I never  offended.  I never 
committed  malice  or  offence,  or  (as  I have  presently 
said  before  you)  done  a thing  wherein  my  thought 
could  accuse  my  conscience  as  touching  words  with 
any  the  King’s  enemy,  or  traitor,  in  my  life.  I re- 
member not  that  ever  I spake  with  any,  knowing 
him  at  that  time  to  be  a traitor,  or  enemy,  but  to 
Brauncetour  at  his  apprehension  in  Paris,  and  to 
Trogmorton  at  St.  Daves,  that  would  have  brought 
me  a present  of  wine  from  Pole  : which  processes,  I 
doubt  not  but  it  is  well  in  your  Lordship’s  remem- 
brance. 

I had  forgot  in  this  place  a light  fellow,  a gunner, 
that  was  an  Englishman,  and  came  out  of  Ireland 
with  an  Irish  traitor,  called  James;  I have  forgot 
his  other  name  and  doubt  in  that  also.  He  could 
^carce  speak  English,  and  drunken  he  was ; and  on 
a day  I rebuked  him  out  of  my  house ; and  he 
sought  to  advertise  me  of  that  James’  coming  again; 
but  the  thing  was  of  no  value,  and  I neglected  them. 

And  there  was  also  a fool,  an  Irishman,  that  was 
lame,  maimed  in  the  Emperor’s  wars ; and  there 
took  him  by  the  name  of  Posaroffa,  because  he  ware 
a red  rose  in  his  breast : but  there  was  no  substance 
of  those  things.  But  if  they  require  any  further,  I 
am  ready  to  say  to  it ; though  it  be  to  none  effect. 
Writing  I never  received  none  of  any  there,  being 
known  a traitor,  or  being  suspect  of  treason;  or 

D 


1 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


none  afterwards  proved  a traitor,  other  than  fol- 
lowetli. 

Of  the  Earl  of  Essex  (being  then  as  the  King’s 
chief  Councillor,  and  after  declared  a traitor  of 
Pagett)  a letter,  being  inclosed  within  a letter  of  the 
Earl  of  Essex,  directing  another  letter  with  the 
same  to  Brauncetour.  Pate’s  letters  I sent  to  the 
Earl  of  Essex,  Brauncetour  not  yet  known  for  a 
traitor.  Of  Leze,  a letter  or  two,  he  being  in  Italy. 
Whereunto  I answered  him  in  substance,  exhort- 
ing him  to  come  and  see  Spain,  and  return  into  Eng- 
land with  me : he  then  not  being  suspected  of  any 
Dffence,  to  my  knowledge. 

Of  Brauncetour  two  or  three  letters  (he  being  at 
Tour  de  Himmes  in  Castille,  and  I at  Barcelona) 
concerning  my  money  of  the  bank.  This  was 
twelve  months  before  he  was  discovered  for  a trai- 
tor. Other  letters  or  writings,  such  as  above,  I 
never  remember  that  any  came  to  my  hands,  or 
through  my  hands  unopened,  but  of  the  Priest  that 
was  my  lord  Lyster’s  chaplain ; which  I opened,  and 
after  brought  them  the  King. 

Communing  with  any  declared  or  known  then  to 
me  a traitor  or  rebel,  with  sending  of  message,  re- 
commendations, advertisements,  favourable  tokens, 
or  writings,  or  any  such  matter,  let  it  be  proved 
and  impute  it  to  me  for  treason.  Nor  I say  not  that, 
for  that  I have  done  it  so  secretly  that  it  cannot  be 
proved,  but,  as  God  judge  me,  I am  clear  of 


SIR  THOMAS  AYYATT. 


H 


thought,  deceiving,  I am  as  clear  as  sending.  God 
knoweth  what  restless  torment  it  hath  been  to  me 
since  my  hither  coming,  to  examine  myself,  perus- 
ing all  my  deeds  to  my  remembrance,  whereby  a 
malicious  enemy  might  take  advantage  by  evil  in- 
terpretation. But,  as  I complained  before  to  your 
Lordships,  it  had  grieved  me  the  suspect  I have 
been  in,  being  in  Spain,  that  it  was  noised  that  I was 
run  away  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  had  not  the  King’s 
Majesty  had  so  good  opinion  of  me  that,  as  I know, 
at  my  coming  home  they  were  punished  that  had 
sown  that  noise  on  me. 

And  further,  by  examination  of  Mason  ; the  which 
thing,  with  that  you  name  the  towns  Nice  and  Villa 
Franca,  reneweth  the  suspect  thereof.  Whereof 
the  substance  and  truth  of  that  I passed  there,  to 
my  remembrance  I shall  declare  sincerely. 

At  the  Emperor’s  arrival  at  Villa  Franca,  (which 
is  about  one  mile  from  Nice,  and  where  is  a boat 
for  gallies,)  to  my  galley  came  a servant  from  the 
Bishop  of  London  that  now  is,  and  Dr.  Haynes, 
advertising  me  of  their  being  at  Nice.  I went  with 
rny  boat  without  delay  to  them ; and,  to  be  short, 
I gat  them  [lodging]  at  Villa  Franca,  right  over 
against  my  own,  as  good  as  the  time  and  place 
would  suffer.  For  though  they  were  better  lodged 
at  Nice,  yet  me-thought  that  Court  being  full  of 
the  Court  of  Rome,  it  was  scant  sure  nor  convenient, 
nor  so  meet  for  our  communication.  The  execution 
thereof  needs  not  here  be  comprehended:  it  was 


lii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


then  advertised  of.  And  besides,  I suppose  it  be 
not  the  intent  of  this  declaration.  I,  as  God  judge 
me  like  as  I was  continually  imagining,  and  com- 
passing what  way  I might  do  best  service ; so  rested 
I not  day  nor  night  to  hunt  out  for  knowledge  of 
those  thmgs.  I trotted  continually  up  and  down 
that  hell  through  heat  and  stink,  from  counsellor 
to  ambassador,  from  one  friend  to  another ; but  the 
things  then  were  either  so  secretly  handled,  or  yet 
not  in  coverture,  that  I with  all  mine  acquaintance, 
and  much  less  they  my  colleagues  for  any  policy 
or  industry  that  I saw  them  use,  could  not  get  any 
knowledge.  Me-thought  (an  Emperor,  a French 
King,  and  Bishop  of  Rome  being  so  assembled,  pre- 
tending an  union  of  all  the  world,  to  be  treated  by 
the  hands  of  my  Master’s  mortal  enemy,  I being 
present,  neither  having  knowledge  of  any  thing,  nor 
thilk  advertisement  from  hence)  that  I should  leave 
no  stone  unmoved  to  get  some  intelligence : although, 
peradventure  my  colleagues  thought  that  little  to 
be  their  charge,  but  only  to  convert  the  Emperor 
by  their  learning. 

Upon  this  it  chanced  that  upon  a day  there  was 
no  person  at  dinner  with  us  but  we  three,  and 
Mason ; and,  the  servants  being  from  +he  board, 
(whether  they  were  gone  for  meat,  or  whether  I 
bade  them  go  down,  I remember  not,)  I rehearsed 
the  [case],  care  I had  for  lack  of  knowledge,  and 
the  necessity,  and  demanded  their  opinion,  ‘ What 
if  Mason  should  insinuate  himself  dissembhiig  with 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


liii 


Pole,  to  suck  something  worthy  of  knowledge  in 
these  great  matters/  They  both  thought  it  good, 
and  Mason  was  content  to  essay  it  when  he  should 
see  time  and  occasion.  The  certain  time  how  long 
I tarried  after,  or  how  long  I was  there  in  all,  on 
my  truth  I remember  not ; but  I think  I was  not 
there  twelve  days  in  all  afore  any  thing  done  in  this 
matter.  To  my  knowledge,  my  overture  for  my 
coming  to  the  King  was  made  unto  me ; wherein 
I had  not  so  much  respect  to  the  Offers  that  were 
made,  as  to  the  promise  and  the  assurance  that  both 
the  Emperor,  Grandvela,  and  Cavas  made  me,  that 
nothing  neither  with  Bishop  or  King  should  be 
treated  and  concluded  till  I came  again,  if  I came 
in  fifteen  or  sixteen  days,  or  that  the  King  did  send 
resolution  upon  these  affairs.  This,  me-thought, 
was  so  gladsome  unto  me  to  win  to  the  King,  he 
being  unbound  and  at  liberty  so  many  days  (with 
my  posting  only  and  pain  in  so  high  matters)  that 
all  my  policy  of  knowledge,  and  intelligence  was 
clean  forgotten  with  me.  Me-thought  I had  enough. 
The  resolution  upon  these  affairs  your  Lordships 
knoweth ; and  the  success  after  sheweth  what  was 
meant  then.  The  day  passed;  and  [before]  my 
return  (although  I solicited  earnestly  my  despatch) 
the  appointment  [was]  concluded,  and  these  Princes 
departed. 

Touching  this  device  of  Mason  with  Pole,  this 
is  all  that  soundeth  in  any  case  to  my  fact.  And 
let  it  be  proved  that  ever  by  Mason,  or  any  other, 


liv 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


I sent  him  word,  advertisement,  or  put  word  or 
order  in  his  mouth  what  he  should  say  or  do,  other 
than  I have  declared,  and  let  it  be  imputed  treason 
unto  me. 

The  like  unto  this  I used  after  at  Toledo,  where 
I used  Mr.  Foleman’s  brother  and  another  merchant 
that  had  been  spoiled  to  seek  means  to  enter  into 
Pole’s  lodging,  and  to  spy  who  resorted  thither, 
and  what  they  could  learn;  whereby  I discovered 
Brauncetour’s  treason,  not  only  resorting  to  Pole, 
but  plainly  exhorting  them  to  forsake  the  King  and 
follow  Pole,  whereof  I advertised : and  by  that  also 
I knew  of  Grandvela’s  being  there  secretly  with 
him ; upon  which  I got  of  Grandvela  farther  knowl- 
edge of  Pole’s  suits  and  demands.  This  I did  with- 
out consultation,  for  I had  no  colleague  with  me. 
But  at  Paris  about  the  apprehension  of  Brauncetour, 
I used  Weldon  and  Sworder,  and  that  with  partici- 
pation of  both  of  Mr.  Tate  and  the  Bishop  of  London, 
to  be  spies  over  Brauncetour,  and  to  put  themselves 
into  company,  whereby  I ever  knew  where  he  be- 
came, till  the  hour  came  that  he  was  apprehended, 
Weldon  being  in  the  chamber  with  him.  Our  Lord 
defend  these  men,  that  the  thing  that  was  both 
meant  and  done  in  the  King’s  service,  should  be 
prejudiced  by  suspect  in  this  behalf. 

But  to  return  to  the  matter  of  Mason.  I met 
with  the  Emperor  upon  the  sea  afore  Marseilles, 
coming  in  a boat  from  Aquas-Mortes,  both  in  hazard 
of  the  Moors  and  naughty  weather,  because  I would 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT.  l\r 

prevent  the  Emperor  and  the  French  King’s  meet- 
ing, which  should  be  at  Aquas-Mortes.  — But  I 
came  too  late  to  break  any  thing.  Now  had  tho 
Emperor  been  at  Genes,  and  there  had  Mason  gotten 
occasion  to  enter  with  Pole ; and  he  told  me  that 
he  could  suck  nothing  out  of  him,  for  that  he  seemed 
to  suspect  him.  At  Venice  was  I never.  Whilst 
this  was  done  was  I yet  in  England ; and  Mason 
told  me  that  he  had  written  to  me  and  the  Earl  of 
Essex  what  he  had  done,  which  letters  never  came 
to  my  hands,  nor  almost  a year  after  to  the  Earl 
of  Essex’  hands,  as  the  same  Earl  told  me  at  my 
coming  home  : and  further  told  me  how  honestly 
Mason  had  declared  himself,  and  how  well  the  King 
took  it,  and  how  good  lord  he  was  to  him.  And 
farther  declared  unto  me  the  chance,  that  though 
the  letters  that  Mason  wrote  to  him  came  not  yet 
then  to  his  hands,  that  in  searching  Mason’s  papers, 
the  minute  thereof  was  found ; and  after  how  the 
letter  self  came  to  his  hands,  adding  thereunto  these 
words,  ‘ They  meant  at  Mason,  but  they  shot  at  the 
Wyatt.’  And  I remember  well  the  answer  I made 
was,  ‘ They  strake  at  me,  but  they  hurt  me  not ; 
therefore,  I pray  God  forgive  them,  but  i-beshrew 
their  hearts  for  their  meaning.’  Mason  of  this  all 
the  while  never  wrote  unto  me  into  Spain,  but  that 
he  was  detained  with  a quartan;  but  I knew  by 
Grandvela  that  he  was  detained  by  examination, 
wherein  I was  suspect;  and  further  particular  I 
could  nothing  of  him.  And  after  as  it  may  appear 


Ivi  THE  DEFENCE  OF 

bj  my  letters,  I solicited  my  coming  home  for  my 
declaration.  If  these  be  the  matters  that  may  bring 
me  into  suspect,  me  seemeth,  if  I be  not  blinded  by 
mine  cause,  that  the  credit  that  an  Ambassador  hath, 
or  ought  to  have,  might  well  discharge  as  great 
stretches  as  these.  If  in  these  matters  I have  pre- 
sumed to  be  trusty  more  than  I was  trusted,  surely 
the  zeal  of  the  King’s  service  drove  me  to  it.  And 
I have  been  always  of  opinion,  that  the  King’s 
Majesty  either  should  send  for  Ambassadors  such 
as  he  trusteth,  or  trust  such  as  he  sendeth.  But  all 
ye,  my  good  Lords,  and  masters  of  the  Council,  that 
hath,  and  shall  in  like  case  serve  the  King,  for 
Christ’s  charity  weigh  in  this  mine  innocence,  as 
you  would  be  deemed  in  your  first  days,  when  you 
have  [had]  charge  without  experience.  For  if  it 
be  not  by  practice  and  means  that  an  Ambassador 
should  have  and  come  to  secrets,  a Prince  were 
as  good  send  naked  letters,  and  to  receive  naked 
letters,  as  to  be  at  charge  for  residencers.  And  if 
a man  should  be  driven  to  be  so  scrupulous  to  do 
nothing  without  warrant,  many  occasions  of  good 
service  should  scape  him. 

Touching  the  Bishop  of  London  and  Haynes’ 
calumning  in  this  matter,  when  it  shall  please  your 
Lordships  to  examine  me,  I shall  sincerely  declare 
unto  you  the  malice  that  hath  moved  them ; and  if 
I might  be  examiner  in  my  own  cause,  I know  they 
cannot  avoid  their  untruth  in  denial  of  their  consent 
in  this  cause  of  Mason. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ivii 


I beseecli  you  humbly  be  my  good  Lords,  and 
let  not  my  life  wear  away  here,  that  might  perad- 
venture  be  better  spent  in  some  days  deed  for  the 
King’s  service.  Our  Lord  put  in  your  hearts  to 
do  with  me  as  I have  deserved  toward  the  King’s 
Majesty. 

The  King’s  true,  faithful  subject 

and  servant,  and  humble  orator, 

T.  AYyatt. 


Iviii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  DEFENCE, 

AFTER  THE  INDICTMENT  AND  EVIDENCE.* 

MY  LORDS, 

If  it  Avere  here  the  law,  as  hath  been  in  some 
Commonwealths,  that  in  all  accusations  the  defend- 
ant should  have  double  the  time  to  say  and  defend, 
that  the  accusers  have  in  making  their  accusements ; 
and  that  the  defendant  might  detain  unto  him  coun- 
sel, as  in  France,  or  where  the  Civil  Law  is  used; 
then  might  I well  spare  some  of  my  leisure  to  move 
your  Lordships’  hearts  to  be  favourable  unto  me ; then 
might  I by  counsel  help  my  truth,  which  by  mine 
own  Avit  I am  not  able  against  such  a prepared  thing. 
But  in  as  much  as  that  time,  that  your  Lordships 
‘Avill  favourably  give  me  Avithout  interruption,  I must 
spend  to  instruct  without  help  of  counsel  their  con- 
sciences, that  must  pronounce  upon  me ; I beseech 
you  only  (at  the  reverence  of  God,  whose  place  in 
judgment  you  occupy  under  the  King’s  Majesty,  and 
AAdiom,  you  ought  to  have,  Avhere  you  are,  before 
your  eyes)  that  you  be  not  both  my  judges  and  my 
accusers,  that  is  to  say,  that  you  aggraAmte  not  my 
cause  unto  the  quest,  but  that  alone  unto  their  re- 
quests or  unto  mine,  Avhich  I suppose  to  be  both  igno- 
rant in  the  laAV,  ye  interpret  laAV  sincerely.  For 


* See  page  xxix.  ante. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


lix 


although  it  be  these  men  that  must  pronounce  upon 
me : yet  I know  right  well  what  a small  word  may, 
of  any  of  your  mouths  that  sit  in  your  place,  to  these 
men  that  seeketh  light  at  your  hands.  This  done, 
with  your  Lordships’  leaves,  I shall  convert  my  tale 
unto  those  men. 

I say  unto  you,  my  good  masters  and  Christian 
brethren,  that  if  I might  have  had  such  help,  as  I 
spake  of  to  my  Lords  before,  counsel,  and  time,  I 
doubt  not  but  I should  fully  have  satisfied  your  con- 
science, and  have  persuaded  you.  Nor  I mean  no 
such  time  as  hath  been  had  for  the  inventing,  for  the 
setting  forth,  for  the  indictment,  for  devisement  of 
the  dilating  of  the  matters  by  my  masters  here  of  the 
King’s  Majesty’s  learned  counsel ; for  it  is  three 
years  that  this  matter  is  first  begun : but  I would 
have  wished  only  so  much  time,  that  I might  have 
read  that  they  have  penned ; and  penned  too,  that 
you  might  read.  But  that  may  not  be.  Therefore 
I must  answer  directly  to  the  accusation,  which  will 
be  hard  for  me  to  remember. 

The  accusation  comprehendeth  the  indictment, 
and  all  these  worshipful  men’s  tales  annexed  there- 
unto. The  length  whereof,  the  cunning  whereof, 
made  by  learned  men,  weaved  in  and  out  to  per- 
suade you  and  trouble  me  here  and  there,  to  seek 
to  answer  that  is  in  the  one  afore,  and  in  the  other 
behind,  may  both  deceive  you  and  amaze  me,  if 
God  put  not  in  your  heads  honest  wisdom  to  weigh 
these  things  as  much  as  it  ought  to  be.  So  to  avoid 


lx 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


the  danger  of  your  forgettingj  and  my  trouble  in  the 
declaration,  it  is  necessary  to  gatlier  the  whole  pro- 
cess into  these  chief  points,  and  unto  them  to  answer 
directly,  whereby  ye  shall  perceive  what  be  the 
principals,  and  what  be  the  effects  which  these  men  • 
craftily  and  v/ittingly  have  weaved  together,  that 
a simple  man  might  hardly  try  the  one  from  the 
other.  Surely,  but  that  I understand  mine  own 
matter,  I should  be  too  much  to  seek  and  accumbered 
in  it.  But,  masters,  this  is  more  of  law  than  of 
equity,  of  living  than  of  uprightness,  with  such  in- 
tricate appearances  to  blind  men’s  conscience ; spe- 
cially in  case  of  man’s  life,  where  alway  the  naked 
truth  is  the  goodliest  persuasion.  But  to  purpose. 

Of  the  points  that  I am  accused  of,  to  my  perceiv- 
ing, these  be  the  two  marks  whereunto  mine  ac- 
cusers direct  all  their  shot  of  eloquence.  A deed, 
and  a saying.  After  this  sort,  in  effect,  is  the  deed 
alleged  with  so  long  words : ^ Wyatt  in  so  great 
trust  wdth  the  King’s  Majesty,  that  he  made  him  his 
ambassador,  and  for  whom  his  Majesty  hath  done 
so  much,  being  ambassador  hath  had  intelligence 
with  the  King’s  rebel  and  traitor  Pole.’  Touching 
the  saying,  amounteth  to  this  much:  ^That  same 
Wyatt,  being  also  ambassador,  maliciously,  falsely, 
and  traitorously  said.  That  he  feared  that  the  King 
should  be  cast  out  of  a cart’s  tail ; and  that  by  God’s 
blood,  if  he  were  so,  he  were  well  served,  and  he 
would  he  were  so.’  The  sole  apparel  of  the  rest  of 
all  this  process  pertaineth  to  the  proofs  of  the  one  or 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixi 


other  of  these  two  points.  But  if  these  two  points 
appear  unto  you  to  be  more  than  false,  maliciously 
invented,  craftily  disguised,  and  worse  set  forth,  I 
doubt  not,  but  the  rest  of  their  proofs  will  be  but  re- 
proofs in  every  honest  man’s  judgment.  But  let  us 
come  to  the  matter. 

And  here  I beseech  you,  if  any  of  you  have  brought 
with  you  already  my  judgment,  by  reason  of  such 
tales  as  ye  have  heard  of  me  abroad,  that  ye  will 
leave  all  such  determination  aside,  and  only  weigh 
the  matter  as  it  shall  be  here  apparent  unto  you. 
And  besides  that,  think,  I beseech  you,  that,  if  it  be 
sufficient  for  the  condemnation  of  any  man  to  be  ac- 
cused only,  that  then  there  is  no  man  guiltless.  But 
if  for  condemnation  is  requisite  proof  and  declaration, 
then  take  me  as  yet  not  condemned,  till  thoroughly, 
advisedly,  and  substantially  ye  have  heard  and 
marked  my  tale. 

First  you  must  understand  that  my  masters  here, 
Serjeant  . . . and  other  of  the  King’s  Counsel 

that  allege  here  against  me,  were  never  beyond  the 
sea  with  me,  that  I remember.  They  never  heard 
me  say  any  such  words  there,  never  saw  me  have 
any  intelligence  with  Pole,  nor  my  indicters  neither. 
Wherein  you  must  mark,  that  neither  these  men 
which  talk  here  unsworn,  nor  the  indictment  at  large, 
is  to  be  regarded  as  an  evidence.  The  indicters 
have  found  that  I have  done  it.  If  that  be  true, 
what  need  your  trial  ? but  if  quests  fetch  their  light 
at  indictments  at  large,  then  is  a man  condemned 


Ixii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


unheard:  then  had  my  Lord  Dacres  been  found 
guilty ; for  he  was  indicted  at  large  by  four  or  five 
quests ; like  was  his  matter  avowed,  affirmed,  and 
aggravated  by  an  help  of  learned  men ; but  on  all 
this  the  honourable  and  wise  nobility  did  not  once 
look;  they  looked  at  the  evidence,  in  which  they 
weighed,  I suppose,  the  malice  of  his  accusers,  the 
unlikelihood  of  the  things  hanging  together,  and 
chiefly  of  all,  the  substance  of  the  matter  and  the 
proofs. 

Who  then  accused  me  that  ever  he  heard  me,  or 
saw  me,  or  knew  me  to  have  intelligence  with  Pole 
by  word,  'Writing,  or  message  to  or  fro?  No  man. 
Why  so?  For  there  is  [no]  such  thing.  Why  art 
thou  brought  hither  then?  It  is  but  a bare  con- 
demnation to  say,  ^If  I had  not  offended,  I had 
not  been  brought  hither.’  That  was  their  saying 
against  Christ,  that  had  nothing  to  say  against  him 
else. 

But  there  is  other  matter,  for  proofs  hereof 
against  me.  There  is  the  Right  Reverend  Father 
in  God  the  Bishop  of  London,  and  Mr.  Dr.  Haynes 
the  King’s  Chaplain,  that  depose  against  me.  What 
sayest  thou  to  this  Wyatt?  These  men  were  be- 
yond the  sea  with  thee,  where  thou  sayest  that  neither 
the  indicters  nor  we  were  there : these  men  of 
learning,  of  gravity,  yea!  and  Ambassadors  with 
thee  too. 

To  this  I say,  this  word  Intelligence  ’ concludeth 
a familiarity  or  conferring  of  devices  together,  which 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixiii 


may  be  by  word,  message,  or  writing,  which  the  law 
forbiddeth  to  be  had  with  any  the  King’s  traitors, 
or  rebels,  pain  of  the  like.  Rehearse  the  law : de- 
clare, my  Lords,  I beseech  you,  the  meaning  thereof. 
Am  I a traitor,  because  I spake  with  the  King’s 
traitor?  Ko,  not  for  that,  for  I may  bid  him, 

^ Avaunt,  traitor ; ’ or,  ‘ Defy  him  traitor.’  No  man 
will  take  this  for  treason.  But  where  he  is  holpen, 
counselled,  advertised  by  my  word,  there  lieth  the 
treason,  there  lieth  the  treason.  In  writing  it  is 
like : in  message  it  is  like : for  I may  send  him  both 
letter  and  message  of  challenge,  or  defiance.  But 
in  any  of  these  the  suspect  is  dangerous ; therefore 
whosoever  would  do  any  of  these  things,  I would 
advise  him  that  it  appear  well.  And  yet  neither 
God’s  law,  nor  man’s  law,  nor  no  equity  condemn eth 
a man  for  suspects : but  for  such  a suspect,  such  a 
word,  or  writing,  [that]  may  be  so  apparent  by  con- 
jectures, or  success  of  things  afterwards,  by  vehe- 
ment likelihoods,  by  conferring  of  things,  and  such 
like,  that  it  may  be  a grievous  matter. 

But  whereto  do  I declare  this  point?  it  is  far 
out  of  my  case:  For  if  I ever  spake  word  to  him 
beyond  the  sea,  and  yet  to  my  remembrance  but 
once  on  this  side ; or  if  ever  I wrote  to  him,  or  if  I 
ever  sent  him  word  or  message,  I confess  the  action ; 
let  it  be  imputed  to  me  for  treason.  I say  not  of 
word,  message,  or  writing  that  should  be  abetting, 
aiding,  comforting,  or  advertisement ; but  any  at  all, 
but  only  by  his  servant  Trogmorton,  at  S.  Daves, 


Ixiv 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


in  France;  which  was  in  refusal  of  a present  that 
he  would  have  sent  me  of  wine,  and  of  other  gear ; 
of  which  thing  I advertised,  and  it  appeareth  by  my 
letters,  the  matter  how  it  went ; and  there  was  pres- 
ent Chambers,  Knowles^  Mantell,  Blage,  and  Mason, 
that  heard  what  pleasant  words  I cherished  him 
withal. 

‘Here  were  a great  matter  to  blear  your  eyes 
withal,’  say  my  accusers,  ‘if  you  would  believe 
Wyatt,  that  is  not  ashamed  to  lie  so  manifestly  in 
judgment.  Didst  thou  not  send  Mason  unto  him  at 
Nice  ? Hast  thou  not  confessed  thyself?  Hath 
not  Mason  confessed  it?  Hath  not  the  Bishop  of 
London  and  Haynes  accused  thee  thereof?’  For- 
sooth never  a whit.  Neither  sent  I Mason,  nor 
have  confessed  that,  nor  Mason  so  confesseth,  nor,  I 
suppose,  neither  of  my  accusers  do  so  allege.  Call 
for  them,  Bonner  and  Haynes ; their  spirituality  let- 
teth  not  them  from  judgment  out  of  the  King’s 
Court.  Let  them  be  sworn.  Their  saying  is,  that 
Mason  spake  with  Pole  at  Genes.  Here  do  not 
they  accuse  me,  they  accuse  Mason.  Call  forth 
Mason,  swear  him.  He  is  defendant,  his  oath  can- 
not be  taken.  What  saith  he  at  the  least?  He 
saith  that  Bonner,  Haynes,  and  Wyatt,  being  all 
three  the  King’s  Ambassadors  at  Villa  Franca  be- 
sides Nice,  that  same  Wyatt,  being  in  great  care  for 
intelligence  how  the  matters  went  there  in  great 
closeness,  being  an  Emperor,  a French  King,  a 
Bishop  of  Rome  so  nigh  together,  that  all  these  lay 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixv 


within  four  miles  treating  upon  a conclusion  of  peace 
by  the  hands  and  moans  of  the  Bishop  of  Home,  the 
King’s  mortal  enemy ; Pole  also  his  traitor  being 
there  practising  against  the  King,  the  said  Wyatt 
at  a dinner  devised  and  asked,  ‘ What  if  Mason  did 
undermine  Pole,  to  look  if  he  could  suck  out  any 
thing  of  him,  that  were  worth  the  King’s  knowl- 
edge:’ which  then  all  three  thought  good,  and  he 
accepted  it,  when  he  should  see  his  time. 

Doth  Mason  here  accuse  me,  or  confesseth,  that 
I sent  him  on  a message  ? What  word  gave  I unto 
thee.  Mason?  What  message?  I defy  all  famil- 
iarity and  friendship  betwixt  us,  say  thy  worst.  My 
accusers  themselves  are  accused  in  this  tale,  as  well 
as  I,  if  this  be  treason.  Yea,  and  more  : for  where- 
as I confess  frankly,  knowing  both  my  conscience 
and  the  thing  clear  of  treason : they,  belike  mistrust- 
ing themselves,  deny  this.  What  they  mean  by 
denying  of  this : minister  interrogatories.  Let  them 
have  such  thirty-eight  as  were  ministered  unto  me ; 
and  their  familiar  friends  examined  in  hold,  and 
appear  as  well  as  I ; and  let  us  see  what  milk  these 
men  would  yield.  Why  not  ? they  are  accused  as 
well  as  I.  Shall  they  be  privileged,  because  they 
by  subtle  craft  complained  first  ? where  I,  knowing 
no  hurt  in  the  thing,  did  not  complain  likewise? 
But  they  are  two.  We  are  also  two.  As  in  spirit- 
ual courts  men  are  wont  to  purge  their  fames,  let 
us  try  our  fames  for  our  honesties,  and  we  will  give 
them  odds.  And  if  the  thing  be  earnestly  marked, 
E 


Ixvi 


THE  DEFENCE  OP 


theirs  is  negative,  ours  is  affirmative.  Our  oaths 
ought  to  be  received : theirs  in  this  point  cannot. 

I say  further,  they  are  not  the  first  openers  of  this 
matter,  whereby  they  ought  to  be  received.  For 
what  will  they  say?  Bonner  wrote  this  out  of 
France  long  after  he  was  gone  from  me  out  of 
Spain.  And  Haynes  came  home,  whereas  he  re- 
mained ambassador  in  France.  But  Mason  wrote 
this  to  the  late  Earl  of  Essex  from  Genes,  where  he 
had  spoken  with  Pole,  forthwith  upon  the  speaking 
with  him,  I being  here  in  England.  For  afore  was 
I come  from  Villa  Franca,  sent  to  the  Emperor 
from  the  King’s  Majesty  in  post : for  what  purpose, 
or  what  service  I did,  I know  the  King’s  Majesty 
hath  esteemed  more  than  I will  ascribe  unto  myself ; 
and  it  should  but  occupy  the  time,  and  instruct  you 
little  the  better  in  the  matter. 

I say  then.  Mason  wrote  of  this  unto  the  Earl 
of  Essex,  and  unto  me  also,  which  letters  never 
came  to  my  hands,  nor  unto  the  Earl  of  Essex’s 
hands  neither,  all  a year  after.  And  when  Mason 
was  examined  here  upon  the  same  afore  the  Earl  of 
Essex,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  and,  as  I remember,  the 
Bishop  of  Durham  (I  being  in  Spain),  his  papers 
and  his  things  were  sought  and  visited.  And  where 
Mason  alleged  these  letters  sent  to  the  Earl  of  Essex, 
he  sware  he  never  received  them  ; and  in  that  search 
was  found  the  minute  of  that  same  letter.  And  I 
think  Mason  no  such  fool,  but  in  that  letter  he  re- 
hearsed, that  upon  our  consent  he  went  to  Pole,  and 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixvii 


so  after  what  he  did.  Upon  this,  so  apparent,  was 
Mason  dismissed : and  long  after  came  the  letters  to 
the  Earl  of  Essex’s  hands.  And  this  did  the  Earl 
of  Essex  tell  me  after  mj  coming  home  out  of  Spain  ; 
and,  as  far'  as  I remember,  I learned  that  of  Mr. 
Bartlett,  which  was  the  Earl’s  servant,  that  brought 
the  minute  with  Mason’s  papers.  This  I say,  for 
that  peradventure  the  letters  cannot  now  be  found ; 
yet  let  him  say  what  he  knoweth.  So  that  it  is  not 
to  be  believed,  that  Mason,  then  not  being  in  doubt 
of  any  accusation,  would  have  said  in  his  letter  that 
he  went  by  the  Ambassador’s  consent,  unless  it  had 
been  so  indeed.  Therefore,  I say,  if  our  consents  in 
this  be  treason,  then  are  they  in  this  as  far  in  as  I ; 
and  their  negative  requireth  proof,  and  neither  oath 
nor  denial:  and  our  oaths  are  to  be  taken  in  the 
affirmative,  and  not  theirs  in  the  negative  : nor  they 
are  not  to  be  received  as  the  first  openers,  for  Mason 
wrote  it  long  before  them.  And  they,  belike,  con- 
demning themselves  in  taking  it  to  be  treason,  would 
falsely  lay  it  unto  us,  that  frankly  confess  it  without 
thought  of  treason.  But  you  may  see  how  their 
falsehood  hangeth  together.  These  men  thinketh 
it  enough  to  accuse : and  as  all  these  slanderers  use 
for  a general  rule,  ‘ Whom  thou  lovest  not,  accuse ; 
for  though  he  heal  not  the  wound,  yet  the  scar  shall 
remain.’ 

But  you  will  say  unto  me.  What  is  it  to  thy  dec- 
laration, whether  they  have  offended  or  no  ? Thou 
confessest,  that  thou  consentest  to  his  going  to  the 


Ixviii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


King’s  traitor : how  avoidest  thou  that  ? What  didst 
thou  mean  by  that,  or  what  authority  hadst  thou  so 
to  do  ? 

This  is  it,  th^t  I would  ye  should  know,  good 
masters,  as  well  as  God  knoweth;  and  it  shall  be 
clear  enough  anon,  without  suspect,  unto  you. 

But  first,  if  that  suspect  should  have  been  well 
and  lawfully  grounded,  before  it  had  come  as  far  as 
accusation;  it  should  have  been  proved  between 
Pole  and  me  kin,  acquaintance,  familiarity,  or  else 
accord  of  opinions,  whereby  it  might  appear,  that 
my  consent  to  Mason’s  going  to  him  should  be  for 
naughty  purpose:  or  else  there  should  have  been 
brought  forth  some  success  since,  some  letters,  if 
none  of  mine,  at  the  least  of  some  others,  some  con- 
fession of  some  of  his  adherents  that  have  been  ex- 
amined or  suffered. 

But  what  ? There  is  none.  Why  so  ? Thou 
shalt  as  soon  find  out  oil  out  of  a flint  stone,  as  find 
any  such  thing  in  me.  What  I meant  by  it  is 
declared  unto  you.  It  was  little  for  my  avail : it 
was  to  undermine  him ; it  was  to  be  a spy  over  him  ; 
it  was  to  learn  an  enemy’s  counsel.  If  it  might 
have  been,  had  it  been  out  of  purpose,  trow  you  ? 
I answer  now,  as  though  it  had  been  done  on  my 
own  head  without  the  counsel  of  two  of  the  King’s 
counsellors,  and  myself  also  the  third ; there  is  also 
mine  authority.  I have  received  oft  thanks  from 
the  King’s  Majesty,  and  his  Councils,  for  things 
that  I have  gotten  by  such  practices ; as  I have  in 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixix 


twenty  letters,  ‘ use  now  all  your  policy,  use  now  all 
your  friends,  use  now  all  your  dexterity  to  come  to 
knowledge  and  intelligence.’  This,  and  such  like, 
were  my  policy ; and  by  such  means  afterwards, 
and  setting  two  to  be  spies  over  that  same  Pole  in 
Toledo,  when  he  came  in  post  to  the  Emperor, 
I discovered  the  treason  of  Brauncetor  and  the 
practices  of  Pole  in  the  Emperor’s  court.  And  I 
dare  say  the  King’s  Majesty  was  served  by  the 
same  deed;  and  how,  my  Lords  of  the  Council 
know,  both  by  my  letters  and  declaration  since  I 
have  been  prisoner. 

But  this  I shall  beseech  you  to  note  in  this  matter, 
that  now  I speak  of ; for  that  I spake  before,  ^ that 
successes  declare  suspects.’  Before  Pole  came  out 
of  Rome  to  go  post  to  the  Emperor,  I had  so  good 
intelligence,  that  I knew  of  it  and  advertised,  that 
he  should  come,  wherein  I desired  to  know  what 
I should  do.  I heard  nothing.  I wrote  again,  ‘ He 
is  on  the  sea,  or  else  as  far  as  Genes  by  land  hither- 
ward.’ I heard  no  word  again.  This  was  either 
because  it  was  not  believed,  or  else  they  thought  it 
was  not  like  that  I should  get  the  knowledge,  being 
in  Spain.  I wrote  again,  ‘ He  is  in  Spain ; ’ and 
what  I had  done : for  I had  laboured  before  his 
coming  importunately,  that  he  should  have  been 
ordered  according  to  the  treaties.  I heard  yet  no 
word.  In  conclusion,  on  my  own  head  I did  so 
much,  that  he  was  neither  sent  against,  being  the 
Bishop  of  Rome’s  legate,  neither  received,  nor  did 


Ixx 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


nothing  that  he  came  for,  nor  rewarded,  which 
Princes  use,  nor  accompanied  out  again.  And  be- 
sides that,  I knew  and  advertised  all  his  doings,  and 
sent  a copy  of  his  own  chief  matters.  And  thus 
was  he  by  my  industry  dispatched  out  of  Spain 
smally  to  his  reputation  or  contenting : and  the 
answer  with  the  king,  afore  the  letters  came  to  me 
by  Francis  the  courier,  [that  directed]  how  I should 
order  myself  in  the  business.  This  I say  hath  been 
one  of  the' fruits  of  mine  intelligence  with  Pole; 
that,  as  God  judge  me,  this  seven  year,  I suppose, 
came  no  gladder  news  unto  him  than  this  of  my 
trouble ; and  on  my  troth  it  is  no  small  trouble  unto 
me,  that  he  should  rejoice  in  it. 

But  to  set  spies  over  traitors,  it  is  I think  no  new 
practice  with  ambassadors.  He  of  France,  that  is 
now  here,  had  he  not,  trow  ye,  them  that  knit  com- 
pany with  Chappuis  afore  he  was  delivered  here  ? 
I myself  the  last  year  at  Paris  appointed  Welden, 
and  Swerder,  two  scholars  there,  to  entertain  Braun- 
cetor,  that  by  them  I might  know  wdiere  he  became 
always,  for  his  sudden  apprehension.  The  Bishop 
was  made  privy  unto  it ; so  was  Mr.  Totle.  And  I 
would  have  had  Mason  done  this,  but  presently 
afore  the  Bishop  he  refused  it,  alleging  that  he  * 
had  once  swerved  from  him  in  such  a like  matter. 
I had  no  warrant  for  all  this  gear,  no  more  had  the 
Bishop  in  this  that  I know  of,  other  than  of  the  au- 


* The  Bishop. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT.  IxXI 

thority  and  trust  that  an  ambassador  hath  and  ought 
to  have. 

Besides  this,  ye  bring  in  now,  that  I should  have 
this  intelligence  with  Pole  because  of  our  opinions, 
that  are  like ; and  that  I am  papish.  I think  I 
should  have  more  ado  with  a great  sort  in  England 
to  purge  myself  of  suspect  of  a .Lutheran,  than  of 
a Papist.  What  men  judge  of  me  abroad,  this  may 
be  a great  token,  that  the  King’s  Majesty  and  his 
Council  know  what  hazard  I was  in  in  Spain  with 
the  Inquisition,  only  by  speaking  against  the  Bishop 
of  Rome,  where  peradventure  Bonner  would  not 
have  bid  such  a brunt.  The  Emperor  had  much 
ado  to  save  me,  and  yet  that  made  me  not  hold  my 
peace,  when  I might  defend  the  King’s  deed  against 
him,  and  improve  his  naughtiness.  But  in  this  case, 
good  Masters,  ye  shall  [hear]  fair  evidence : [what] 
the  King  and  his  Council  thought  in  this  matter, 
when  they  demised  Mason  at  his  first  examination, 
and  for  the  small  weight  there  was  either  against 
him  or  me.  And  what  thing  hath  there  happened 
since,  that  was  not  then  opened  ? Inquire,  and  ye 
shall  find  none. 

But  now  to  the  other  part  of  my  accusation,  touch- 
ing my  saying.  For  the  Love  of  our  Lord,  weigh 
it  substantially ; and  yet  withal,  remember  the 
naughty  handling  of  my  accusers  in  the  other  point ; 
and  in  this  you  shall  see  no  less  maliciousness,  and 
a great  deal  more  falsehood. 

And  first  let  us  handle  the  matter,  as  thotigh  I 


Ixxii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


had  so  said,  except  only  that  same  ^falsely,  mali- 
ciously, and  traitorously,’  with  all.  Were  it  so,  I 
had  said  the  words ; yet  it  remaineth  unproved : 
(but  take  it  not,  that  I grant  them,  for  I mean  not 
so,)  but  only  that  I had  so  said.  Rehearse  here  the 
law  of  words ; declare,  my  Lords,  I beseech  you, 
the  meaning  thereof.  This  includeth  that  words 
maliciously  spoken,  or  traitorously,  against  the  King’s 
person  should  be  taken  for  treason.  It  is  not  meant, 
masters,  of  words  which  despise  the  King  lightly,  or 
which  are  not  all  the  most  reverently  spoken  of  him, 
as  a man  should  judge  a chace  against  him  at  the 
tennis,  wherewith  he  were  not  all  the  best  contented : 
but  such  words,  as  bear  an  open  malice ; or  such 
words  as  persuade  commotions,  or  seditions,  or  such 
things.  And  what  say  my  accusers  in  these  words  ? 
Do  they  swear  I spake  them  traitorously,  or  mali- 
ciously ? I dare  say,  they  be  shameless  enough ; 
yet  have  they  not  so  deposed  against  me.  Read 
their  depositions : They  say  not  so.  Confer  their 
depositions,  if  they  agree  word  for  word : That  is 
hard,  if  they  were  examined  apart,  unless  they  had 
conspired  more  than  became  faithful  accusers.  If 
they  misagree  in  words,  and  not  in  substance,  let  us 
hear  the  words  they  vary  in ; for  in  some  little  thing 
may  appear  the  truth,  which,  I dare  say,  you  seek 
for  conscience  sake.  And  besides  that,  it  is  a small 
thing  in  altering  of  one  syllable  either  with  pen  or 
word,  that  may  make  in  the  conceiving  of  the  truth 
much  matter  or  error.  For  in  this  thing,  ^ I fear/ 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxiii 


or  trust,’  seemeth  but  one  small  syllable  changed, 
and  yet  it  inaketh  a great  difference,  and  may  be  of 
an  hearer  wrong  conceived  and  worse  reported  ; and 
yet,  worst  of  all,  altered  by  an  examiner.  Again, 
‘ fall  out,’  ^ cast  out,’  or  ^ left  out,’  maketh  difference  ; 
yea,  and  the  setting  of  the  words  one  in  another’s 
place  may  make  great  difference,  though  the  words 
were  all  one,  as,  ‘ a mill  horse,’  and  ‘ a horse  milk’ 
I beseech  you  therefore  examine  the  matter  under 
this  sort ; confer  their  several  sayings  together,  con- 
fer the  examinations  upon  the  same  matter,  and  I 
dare  warrant,  ye  shall  find  misreporting  and  misun- 
derstanding. 

But  first,  for  my  own  part,  let  this  saying  be 
interpreted  in  the  highest  kind  of  naughtiness  and 
maliciousness ; yea,  and  alter  them  most  that  can  be, 
that  they  may  be  found  to  that  purpose.  This  is, 
(which  God  forbid  should  be  thought  of  any  man) 
that  by  throwing  out  of  a cart’s  tail,  I should  mean 
that  vile  death,  that  is  ordained  for  wretched  thieves. 
Besides  this ; put,  that  I were  the  naughtiest  rank 
traitor  that  ever  the  ground  bare : doth  any  man 
think  that  I were  so  foolish,  so  void  of  wit,  that  I 
would  have  told  Bonner  and  Haynes,  which  had 
already  lowered  at  my  fashions,  that  I would  so 
shameful  a thing  to  the  King’s  Highness?  Though 
I were,  I say,  so  naughty  a knave,  and  not  all  of  the 
wisest,  yet  am  I not  so  very  a fool,  though  I thought 
so  abominably,  to  make  them  privy  of  it,  with  whom 
I had  no  great  acquaintance,  and  much  less  trust. 


Ixxiv 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


But  it  is  far  from  that  point : Men  maj  not  be 
interpreted  by  as  much  as  may  be  evil  wrested  and 
worse  conjectured:  there  must  be  reason  and  ap- 
pearance in  every  thing ; but  that  way  there  is  none. 
But  ye  know,  masters,  it  is  a common  proverb,  ^ I 
am  left  out  of  the  cart’s  tail,’  and  it  is  taken  upon 
packing  gear  together  for  carriage,  that  it  is  evil 
taken  heed  to,  or  negligently,  slips  out  of  the  cart, 
and  is  lost.  So  upon  this  blessed  peace,  that  was 
handled,  as  partly  is  touched  before,  where  seemed 
to  be  union  of  most  part  of  Christendom,  I saw,  that 
we  hung  yet  in  suspense  between  the  two  Princes 
that  were  at  war,  and  that  neither  of  them  would 
conclude  with  us  directly  against  the  Bishop  of 
Pome,  and  that  we  also  would  not  conclude  else 
wdth  none  of  them : whereby  it  may  appear  what 
I meant  by  the  proverb,  whereby  I doubted  they 
would  conclude  among  themselves  and  leave  us  out. 
And  in  communicating  with  some,  peradventure, 
[fore] casting  these  perils  I might  say ; ‘ I fear  for 
all  these  men’s  fair  promises  the  King  shall  be  left 
out  of  the  cart’s  tail ; ’ and  lament  that  many  good 
occasions  had  been  let  slip  of  concluding  with  one 
of  these  Princes : and  I think  that  I have  used  the 
same  proverb  with  some  in  talking.  But  that  I 
used  [it]  with  Bonner  or  Haynes,  I never  remem- 
ber ; and  if  I ever  did,  I am  sure  never  as  they 
couch  the  tale.  And  if  I have  used  it  with  any 
other,  I think,  it  hath  been  with  Blage,  or  with 
Mason.  Let  their  declarations  be  rehearsed,  if  they 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxv 


have  been  in  that  examined,  whereby  it  may  ap- 
pear what  I meant  by  the  proverb. 

But  consider  the  place  and  time,  where  my  ac- 
cusers sayeth,  that  I should  speak  it,  and  thereby 
ye  shall  easily  perceive,  that  either  they  lie,  and 
rnisreport  the  tale ; or  else  that  I can  [not]  speak 
English. 

At  Barcelona,  say  they,  after  we  were  come  from 
Nice,  and  Villa  Franca,  and  Aquas-Mortes ; that 
was  after  the  truce  concluded,  after  the  meeting  of 
the  Princes ; yea,  and  afore  that,  the  King’s  Majesty 
was  left  out  of  the  packing  indeed:  whereof  at 
Aquas-Mortes  I sent  him  the  copy  of  the  conclu- 
sions, and  chapters  of  the  peace,  wherein  he  was  not 
mentioned,  contrary  to  the  Emperor’s  promise,  and 
to  the  French  king’s  letters.  Since  we  knew  all 
three  the  same,  it  is  now  like  that  after  this  I would 
use  the  future  tense  in  that  was  past,  and  shall,  ‘ ye 
shall  see,’  and  then  ^ if  he  be  so,  by  God’s  blood  he 
is  well  served ;’  and  then,  ‘ I would  he  were  so.’  It 
is  more  like  I should  say,  if  it  were  spoken  at  Barce- 
lona, that  ‘ he  is  left  out  of  the  cart’s  tail,  and  by 
God’s  blood  he  is  well  served,  and  I am  glad  of  it.’ 
By  this  you  may  perceive,  that  either  they  lie  in  the 
time,  and  the  place,  or  else  in  the  reporting  the 
thing. 

But  because  I am  wont  sometime  to  rap  out  an 
oath  in  an  earnest  talk,  look  how  craftily  they  have 
put  in  an  oath  to  the  matter,  to  make  the  matter 
seem  mine ; and  because  they  have  guarded  a 


Ixxvi 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


naughty  garment  of  theirs  with  one  of  my  naughty 
guards,  they  will  swear,  and  face  me  down,  that  that 
was  my  garment.  But  bring  me  my  garment  as  it 
was.  If  I said  any  like  thing,  rehearse  my  tale  as 
I said  it.  No  man  can  believe  you,  that  I meant  it 
as  you  construe  it ; or  that  I speak  it  as  you  allege 
it-;  or  that  I understand  English  so  evil  to  speak  so 
out  of  purpose.  Therefore  the  time,  the  place,  and 
other  men’s  saying  upon  the  same  matter,  bewray 
your  craft  and  your  falsehood.  It  well  appeareth 
that  you  have  a toward  will  to  lie,  but  that  you 
lacked  in  the  matter,  practice,  or  wit : for,  they  say, 
^ He  that  will  lie  well  must  have  a good  remem- 
brance, that  he  agree  in  all  points  with  himself,  lest 
he  be  spied.’ 

To  you,  my  good  masters,  in  this  purpose,  I doubt 
not  but  you  see  already  that  in  this  saying,  if  I had 
so  said,  I meant  not  that  naughty  interpretation,  that 
no  devil  would  have  imagined  upon  me ; Nother  is 
proved  unto  you,  nor  one  appearance  thereof  al- 
leged. Besides,  how  unlike,  it  is,  that  I should  so 
say  as  it  is  alleged : and  finally,  as  I do  grant,  I 
might  say,  and  as  I think,  I did  say,  that  is  no 
treason ; for  that  I should  wish  or  will  that  the 
King  should  be  left  out  of  the  comprehension ; the 
King  liimself  and  all  the  Council,  that  were  at  that 
time  understanding  in  the  King’s  affairs,  know,  what 
labour  and  what  pains  I took  to  have  his  matters 
comprehended  ; and  I report  me  unto  him  and  them  : 
and  some  man  would  have  thought  it  much  to  have 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxvii 


said  so  much  to  his  fellow,  as  I said  after  to  the  Em- 
peror and  his  counsellors,  charging  them  with  that 
they  had  broken  promise  with  the  King.  This  was 
an  evident  sign  of  my  will,  that  I would  nothing 
less  tlian  the  misgoing  of  the  King’s  affairs, 
namely,  of  these  that  I had  the  handling  of.  If  they 
would  have  proved  that,  they  should  have  brought 
in  my  negligence,  my  slothfulness,  my  false  handling 
of  myself,  whereby  the  King’s  matters  had  quailed. 
But  I say  this  much,  if  they  have  quailed  for  lack  of 
wit,  I am  excusable : let  the  King  blame  his  choice, 
and  not  me.  But  if  they  have  been  hindered  of  one 
minute  of  the  advancement  that  they  might  have  had 
by  my  untruth,  my  slackness,  my  negligence,  my 
pleasures,  mine  eases,  my  meat,  my  health ; let  any 
of  this  be  proved,  and  let  it  be  treason  unto  me. 

But  now  cometh  to  places,  the  conjectures  and 
likelihoods  that  maketh  proofs  of  mine  intelligence 
with  Pole,  and  of  my  malicious  speaking  of  that 
same  so  disguised  saying.  But  how  can  any  thing 
make  a proof  or  a conjecture  of  nothing?  Ye  see 
the  principles  are  wiped  away : what  matter  can  the 
appearances  make  ? But  yet  let  me  answer  unto 
them,  you  shall  see  them  make  for  my  purpose. 

One  and  of  the  greatest  is  this : ‘ Wyatt  grudged 
at  his  first  putting  in  the  Tower ; ergo,  say  they,  he 
bare  malice  in  his  heart;  and  it  is  like  that  he 
sought  intelligence  with  Pole ; and  also  he  wished 
the  King’s  affairs  to  miscarry,  because  he  would  one 
way  or  other  be  revenged.’  Peradventure  my 


Ixxviii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


accus.ers  frame  not  their  argument  so  much  apparent 
against  me : but  let  us  examine  every  point  thereof. 
‘ Wyatt  grudged  at  his  first  putting  into  the  Tower.’ 
If  they  take  grudging  for  being  sorry,  or  grieving,  I 
will  not  stick  with  them,  I grant  it,  and  so  I think  it 
would  do  to  any  here.  But  if  they  use  that  word 
‘grudging’  including  a desire  to  revenge,  I say  they 
lie,  I never  so  grudged ; nor  they  nor  any  other 
man  can  either  prove  that,  or  make  a likelihood  of  a 
proof  thereof.  Mason  saith,  he  hath  heard  me  com- 
plain thereof.  What  then  ? Doth  Mason  say,  that 
thereby  he  reckoned,  I meant  revenging,  bearing 
malice  in  my  heart?  I know  him  so  well  that 
he  will  not  so  interpret  complaining  or  moaning  to 
revenging. 

But  here  come  my  other  two  honest  men,  and 
they  say  that  I should  say,  ‘ God’s  blood,  the  King 
set  me  in  the  Tower,  and  afterward  sent  me  for  his 
ambassador : was  not  this  I pray  you  a pretty  way 
to  get  me  credit?’  as  they  say,  I should  think.  Nay 
put  it,  that  I had  spoken  so  like  an  idiot,  as  they 
seem  to  make  me  by  this  tale : what  grudging  or 
revenging  findeth  any  for  my  putting  into  the  Tower 
in  this  saying  ? Is  here  any  threatening  ? Is  here 
any  grudging?  Yea,  and  that  it  is  far  from  my 
nature  to  study  to  revenge,  it  may  appear  by  the 
many  great  despites  and  displeasures  that  I have 
had  done  unto  me,  which  yet  at  this  day  is  no  man 
alive  that  can  say  that  ever  I did  hurt  him  for 
revenging : and  in  this  case  yet  much  less ; ibr  it  is 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxix 


SO  far  from  my  desire  to  revenge,  that  I never  im- 
puted to  the  King’s  Highness  my  imprisonment: 
and  hereof  can  Mr.  Lieutenant  here  present  testify, 
to  whom  I did  ever  impute  it.  Yea,  and  further, 
my  Lord  of  Suffolk  himself  can  tell,  that  I imputed 
it  to  him ; and  not  only  at  the  beginning,  but  even 
the  very  night  before  my  apprehension  now  last: 
what  time  (I  remember)  my  suing  unto  him  for  his 
favour  to  remit  his  old  undeserved  evil  will,  and  to 
remember,  ‘like  as  he  was  a mortal  man,’  so  as  ‘to 
bear  no  immortal  hate  in  his  breast.’  Although  I 
had  received  the  injury  at  his  hand,  let  him  say 
whether  this  be  true. 

But  what  is  there  here  in  this  article  of  my 
fashion  ? Mark  it,  I pray  you,  that  here  again  they 
have  guarded  my  tale  with  an  oath,  because  it 
should  seem  mine.  But  let  them  be  examined 
that  have  heard  me  talk  of  that  matter,  whereof 
they  seem  to  tear  a piece  or  two,  and  patch  them 
together ; as  if  a man  should  take  one  of  my  doublet 
sleeves,  and  one  of  my  coat,  and  sew  them  together 
after  a disguised  fashion,  and  then  say,  ‘ Look,  I 
pray  you,  what  apparel  Wyatt  weareth.’  I say,  let 
other  men  be  examined,  and  ye  shall  find,  that  after 
I came  out  of  the  Tower  in  the  commotion  time,* 
that  I was  appointed  to  go  against  the  King’s  reb- 
els, and  did  (until  I was  countermanded)  as  speedily 

* He  alludes  to  the  insurrection  of  the  northern  counties  in 
1537,  during  Cromwell’s  administration. 


Ixxx 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


and  as  well  furnished  as  I was  well  able : that  after, 
I was  made  Sheriff  of  Kent  for  a special  confidence 
in  such  a busy  time : that  after  that  again,  I was 
sent  the  King’s  Ambassador.  I have  divers  times 
boasted  thereof,  and  taken  it  for  a great  declaration 
of  my  truth,  for  all  my  putting  in  the  Tower,  the 
confidence  and  the  credit  the  King  had  in  me  after : 
and  of  this,  peradventure,  they  have  maliciously 
perverted  some  piece  of  my  tale,  if  they  perchance 
were  there  present,  or  heard  of  it.  And  it  may 
easily  appear ; for  their  own  saying  is,  that  I should 
say,  ‘ Was  not  this,  I pray  you,  a pretty  way  to  get 
me  credit  ? ’ How  think  ye,  masters  ? I suppose  it 
was  a way  to  get  me  credit.  Trow  ye,  that  any 
man  could  think,  that  I should  think  it  was  not  a 
way  to  get  me  credit?  It  gat  me  so  much  credit 
that  I am  in  debt,  yet  in  debt  for  it.  Mark,  I be- 
seech you,  how  this  gear  hangeth  together.  This  is 
one  of  their  proofs  that  I grudged  at  my  last  putting 
in  the  Tower ; which,  if  by  grudging  they  mean  re- 
venging, you  see  how  substantially  that  is  proved: 
and  if  by  grudging  they  mean  moaning,  they  need 
not  prove  it ; I grant  it.  Will  any  man  then,  that 
hath  honesty,  wit,  or  discretion,  gather,  that  because 
I bemoaned  my  imprisonment,  that  therefore  I bare 
malice  and  would  revenge?  Will  any  man,  that 
hath  Christian  charity  and  any  conscience,  upon  such 
a malicious  gathering,  frame  an  accusation  upon  a 
man’s  life  ? Doth  any  man,  that  hath  any  perceiv- 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxxi 


ing,  see  not  the  malice  of  these  men  ? If  there  be 
any  of  you  that  doth  nof,  I bind  myself,  ere  my  tale 
be  done,  to  let  you  see  it  in  great  letters. 

But  unto  this  they  add  withal,  that  I should  wish 
the  King  had  sent  me  to  Newgate  when  he  sent  me 
ambassador. 

I confess  frankly,  I never  begged  the  office ; and, 
but  for  the  obedience  to  my  master,  I would  have 
utterly  refused  it.  And  how  I excused  the  taking 
of  it,  my  Lords  of  the  Council  can  bear  me  record, 
as  well  for  that  I knew  my  own  inability,  whereby 
I should  be  wondrously  accumbered,  for  that  I was 
given  to  a more  pleasant  kind  of  life.  My  cum- 
brance  I found  again  when  I had  great  matters  in 
hand,  meddling  with  wise  men,  had  no  counsel  but 
my  own  foolish  head,  a great  zeal  that  the  King 
might  be  well  served  by  me,  a great  fear  lest  any 
thing  should  quail  through  my  fault.  This  solici- 
tude, this  care  troubled  me.  Mason,  Blage,  Mr. 
Hobby,  Mr.  Dudley,  and  other  that  were  with  me 
can  testify,  yea,  and  my  letters  ofttimes  hither,  that 
I wished  a meeter  man  than  myself  in  the  room ; 
yea,  and  that  I had  been  at  the  plough  on  that  con- 
dition, But  I never  remember,  in  good  faith,  that 
I should  in  that  matter  name  Newgate.  But  if  I 
had  so  said  (although  it  had  been  foolishly  spoken) 
what  proveth  this  malice,  to  revenging  for  my  being 
in  the  Tower  ? Would  he,  trow  ye,  that  would 
revenge,  wish  himself  in  Newgate?  is  it  not  like 


F 


Ixxxii 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


this  matter  ? A man  would  think  rather,  he  being 
an  ambassador  might  do  more  despite  toward  the 
King.  There  he  might  play  the  false  knave,  and 
discover,  and  make  misrelation,  and  such  parts. 

But  what  thing  is  that,  that  these  men  would  not 
wrest  for  their  purpose,  that  wrest  such  things? 
They  found  fault,  that  I did  not  them  the  honour 
that  belonged  to  the  King’s  ambassadors.  I lent 
not  them  my  horse,  when  they  went  out  of  Barce- 
lona, nor  I did  not  accompany  them  on  the  way. 

First  I report  me  to  my  servants,  whereof  some 
©f  them  are  gentlemen,  [and]  right  honest  men ; to 
their  own  servants ; yea,  and  let  them  answer  them- 
selves. Did  ye  not  sit  always  at  the  upper  end  of 
the  table?  Went  we  abroad  at  any  time'  together, 
but  that  either  the  one  or  the  other  was  on  my  right 
hand  ? Came  any  man  to  visit  me,  whom  I made 
not  do  ye  reverence,  and  visit  ye  too  ? Had  ye  not 
in  the  galley  the  most  and  best  commodious  places  ? 
Had  any  man  a worse  than  I?  Where  ye  were 
charged  with  a groat,  was  not  I charged  with  five  ? 
Was  not  I for  all  this  first  in  the  commission  ? Was 
not  I ambassador  resident?  A better  man  than 
either  of  ye  both  should  have  gone  without  that 
honour  that  I did  you,  if  he  had  looked  for  it.  I 
know  no  man  that  did  you  dishonour,  but  your  un- 
mannerly behaviour,  that  made  ye  a laughing-stock 
to  all  men  that  came  in  your  company,  and  me  some- 
time to  sweat  for  shame  to  see  you.  Yet  let  other 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxxiii 


judge  how  I hid  and  covered  your  faults.  But  I 
have  not  to  do  to  charge  you ; I will  not  spend  the 
time  about  it. 

But  mark,  I pray  you,  I lent  not  them  my  horses': 
they  never  desired  to  go  into  the  town,  to  walk  or 
stir  out  of  their  lodging:  but  they  had  mule,  or 
horse,  or  both  ready  for  them,  foot  cloth,  and  har- 
nessed with  velvet  of  the  best  that  I had  for  mule  or 
hackney.  Marry,  it  was  thought  indeed  amongst 
us,  that  Bonner  could  have  been  content  to  have 
been  upon  a genet  with  gilt  harness.  These  men 
came  in  post,  and  went  again  in  post  at  their  part- 
ing. My  servants  had  gotten  their  post  horses 
ready : would  they  have  had^  without  necessity  my 
horse  to  have  ridden  post  ? I brought  them  to  their 
horse.  Would  they,  I should  have  companied  them 
riding  in  post?  Children  would  not  have  played 
the  fool  so  notably.  Was  not  this  a pretty  article 
toward  treason  to  be  alleged  against  me  by  Bonner : 
Some  man  might  think,  that  hereby  a man  might 
perceive  the  malice  that  hath  moved  my  trouble : 
but  yet  it  shall  be  more  manifest. 

Another  occasion  there  is,  that  I should  say, 
‘They  were  more  meet  to  be  parish  priests  than 
ambassadors.’  By  my  truth,  I never  liked  them 
indeed  for  ambassadors ; and  no  more  did  the  most 
part  of  them  that  saw  them,  and  namely  they  that 
had  to  do  with  them.  But  that  did  I not  [talk],  on 
my  faith,  with  no  stranger.  But  if  I said  they  were 
meeter  to  be  parish  priests,  on  my  faith  I never  re- 


Ixxxiv 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


member  it ; and  it  is  not  like  I should  so  say ; for 
as  far  as  I could  see,  neither  of  them  both  had 
greatly  any  fancy  to  Mass,  and  that,  ye  know,  were 
requisite  for  a parish  priest:  for  this  can  all  that 
were  there  report,  that  not  one  of  them  all,  while 
they  were  there,  said  mass,  or  offered  to  hear  mass, 
[as]  though  it  was  but  a superstition.  I say,  both 
Mason  and  I,  because  of  the  name  that  Englishmen 
then  had,  to  be  all  Lutherans,  were  fain  to  entreat 
them  that  we  might  sometimes  shew  ourselves  in  the 
Church  together,  that  men  conceived  not  an  evil 
opinion  of  us.  Let  Mason  be  asked  of  this.  It  was 
not  like  then,  that  the  Bishop  of  London  should  sue 
to  have  the  Scripture  in  English  taken  out  of  the 
Church. 

But  I have  not  to  do  withal : I must  here  answer 
to  interrogatories,  that  upon  this  occasion  belike 
were  ministered  against  me.  Whether  he  thought 
that  I could  be  a good  subject,  that  misliketh  or 
repugneth  his  Prince’s  proceedings  ? I say  here,  as 
I said  unto  it,  as  far  as  misliking  or  repugning  iu- 
cludeth  violent  disobedience  or  seditious  persuasion, 
I think,  he  is  no  good  subject;  but  to  mislike  a 
building,  a choice  of  an  ambassador,  or  the  making 
of  a law,  obeying  yet  nevertheless,  or  such  things 
proceeding,  although  peradventure  it  may  be  done 
out  of  time  and  place,  yet  I think,  it  may  be 
without  hurt  of  allegiance ; unless  there  be  a law 
made  to  the  contrary,  which  1 know  not.  What 
say  I then  to  the  laAV  of  words,  which  Mason  should 


Sm  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxxv 


say,  that  me  thought  very  hard,  and  that  the  first 
devisers  were  well  served  in  falling  into  it,  which  he 
thinketh  I meant  by  the  Lord  Eocheford  or  the 
Lord  of  Essex?  This,  and  if  it  were  offence,  it  is 
uncertain  by  his  own  saying ; and  yet  I nev^  re- 
member, I said  so  unto  him.  But  what  is  it  to 
treason  ? Do  I maintain  against  the  law  ? do  I per- 
suade any  violence  against  the  law?  it  rather  in- 
cludeth  allowance  of  the  law,  if  they  were  well 
served,  that  they  suffered  for  offending  in  that. 

Again,  saith  Mason,  that  I should  say  unto  him, 
^That  it  was  a goodly  Act,  the  Act  of  Supreme 
Head,  speciously  the  King’s  Majesty  being  so  virtu- 
ous, so  wise,  so  learned,  and  so  good  a prince : but 
if  it  should  fall  into  an  evil  prince,  that  it  were  a sore 
rod.’  I suppose  I have  not  missaid  in  that:  For  all 
powers,  namely  absolute,  are  sore  rods  when  they 
fall  into  evil  men’s  hands ; and  yet  I say,  they  are 
to  be  obeyed  by  express  law  of  [God]  ; for  that 
there  is  no  evil  prince,  but  for  desert  of  the  people ; 
and  no  hand  over  an  evil  prince  but  the  hand  of 
God.  This,  upon  examining  of  as  many  men  as 
have  been  familiar  with  me,  among  whom  some 
words  might  have  escaped  me,  and  sucked  out  of 
both  of  them  and  of  me  with  such  interrogatories ; 
yet  is  nothing  found  of  me  of  treason.  Yea,  and 
when  there  is  any  toward  my  master  within  this 
heart,  a sharp  sword  go  thither  withal. 

But  because  I bound  myself  to  make  this  malice 
of  my  accusers  to  appear  manifest  unto  you,  let  me 


Ixxxvi 


THE  DEFENCE  OF 


come  to  another  point  of  their  accusing,  which  was, 
by  Bonner’s  letters  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  that  I lived 
viciously  among  the  Nuns  of  Barcelona. 

To  the  end  ye  be  fully  persuaded  and  informed 
of  tlT^t  matter,  there  be  many  men  in  the  town,  and 
most  of  them  [gentlemen],  which  walk  upon  their 
horses,  and  here  and  there  talk  with  those  ladies ; 
and  when  they  will,  go  and  sit,  company  together 
with  them,  talking  in  their  chambers.  Earls,  Lords, 
Dukes,  use  the  same,  and  I among  them.  1 used 
not  the  pastime  in  company  of  ruffians,  but  with 
such,  or  with  Ambassadors  of  [Ferrara],  of  Mantua, 
of  Venice,  a man  of  sixty  years  old,  and  such  vicious 
company. 

I pray  you  now,  let  me  turn  my  tale  to  Bonner : 
for  this  riseth  of  him,  yea,  and  so  (I  think)  doth  all 
the  rest : for  his  crafty  malice,  I suppose  in  my  con- 
science, abuseth  the  other’s  simpleness. 

Come  on  now,  my  Lord  of  London,  what  is  my 
abominable  and  vicious  living  ? Do  ye  know  it,  or 
have  ye  heard  it  ? I grant  I do  not  profess  chastity ; 
but  yet  I use  not  abomination.  If  ye  know  it,  tell  it 
here,  with  whom  and  when.  If  ye  heard  it,  who  is 
your  author?  Have  you  seen  me  have  any  harlot 
in  my  house  whilst  ye  were  in  my  company  ? Did 
you  ever  see  woman  so  much  as  dine,  or  sup  at  my 
table?  None,  but  for  your  pleasure,  the  woman 
that  v/as  in  the  galley ; which  I assure  you  may  be 
well  seen  ; for,  before  you  came,  neither  she  nor  any 
other  came  above  the  mast.  But  because  the  gentle- 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxxvii 


men  took  pleasure  to  see"  you  entertain  her,  there- 
fore they  made  her  dine  and  sup  with  you ; and 
they  liked  well  your  looks,  your  carving  to  Madonna, 
your  drinking  to  her,  and  your  playing  under  the 
table.  Ask  Mason,  ask  Blage,  (Bowes  is  dead,)  ask 
Wolf,  that  was  my  steward;  they  can  tell  how  the 
gentlemen  marked  it,  and  talked  of  it.  It  was  a 
.play  to  them,  the  keeping  of  your  bottles,  that  no 
man  might  drink  of  but  yourself ; and  ‘ That  the  lit- 
tle fat  priest  were  a jolly  morsel  for  the  Signora.’ 
This  was  their  talk ; it  is  not  my  devise : ask  other, 
whether  I do  lie.  But  turn  to  my  own  part. 

What,  think  you,  this  man  meant  sincerely  to 
accuse  me  of  treason,  when  he  seeketh  the  conjec- 
tures to  prove  my  treason  by  my  moaning  the  first 
imprisonment,  by  not  lending  my  horse  (wherein 
also  he  lieth),  by  not  accompanying  him  out  of 
town,  by  misliking  them  for  Ambassadors,  and 
by  my  vicious  living  with  Nuns.  This  man 
thought  rather  to  defame  me,  than  sincerely  to 
accuse  me.  Like  as,  I trust,  ye  will  not  condemn 
me  for  conjectures  and  likelihoods,  and  namely  so 
out  of  all  appearance,  although  you  hear  them. 
Likewise,  I pray  you,  give  me  leave  to  shew  you 
my  conjecture  and  likelihoods  upon  these  things,  and 
then  guess,  whether  I go  nearer  the  truth : and  yet 
I desire  not  by  them  to  be  absolved,  so  that  by  the 
other  I be  not  also  condemned. 

The  Earl  of  Essex  belike  desired  Bonner  to  be 
a spy  over  me,  and  to  advertise  him ; he  thinking 


Ixxxviii 


THE  DEFENCE  OP 


that  if  he  might  wipe  me  out  of  that  room,  that  him- 
self might  come  to  it,  as  indeed  the  man  is  desirous 
of  honour ; and  for  mj  part  I would  he  had  it  with- 
out envy.  That  this  might  be  a practice  of  tho 
Earl  of  Essex,  I think,  toward  me,  not  meaning  for 
any  treason,  but  to  find  whether  it  were  true  that 
I did  so  good  service  as  was  reported,  I know  by 
myself ; for  so  would  he  have  had  me  done  for  him 
toward  my  Lord  of  Winchester,  then  being  Ambas- 
sador in  F ranee ; and  I suppose  my  said  Lord  could 
tell,  by  Bonner’s  means  and  one  Barnaby,  what  a 
tragedy  and  a suspect  they  stirred  against  him. 
Well,  all  this  is  reconciled.  But  yet,  I say,  it  is  the 
likelier  that  he  would  take  that  office  toward  me, 
that  used  it  to  another  ; and  then,  conceiving  in  his 
mind  (and  that  as  God  judge  me,  falsely,)  that  I had 
letted  him  in  Spain,  that  he  had  no  reward  of  the 
Emperor,  conceived  therewithal  a malice : and  by 
some  inkling  that  he  had,  that  I misliked  his  fashion ; 
and  upon  this  he  hath  built  this  ungodly  work  that 
ye  see,  that  standeth  all  by  invention,  conjectures, 
likelihoods,  stretched,  wrested,  and  drawn  out  of  all, 
(God  forbod)  without  any  proof  at  all. 

This  far  I have  had  to  say  u^6n  the  foundation 
and  rearing  of  this  accusation  against  me ; and  I do 
not  mistrust  your  wisdom  never  a whit,  but  like  as 
ye  weigh  tlie  chief  principles,  so  weigh  ye  little 
these  horrible  and  slanderous  words,  that  of  ordi- 
nary learned  men  use  both  in  their  indictments  and 
accusations,  as  at  the  beginning  I declared  them  to 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


Ixxxix 


satisfy  your  conscience  :*but  a great  deal  better  to 
satisfy  your  minds,  I touched  afore,  that  this  mat- 
ter two  years  passed  was  afore  the  Council,  Mason 
in  hold  detained,  and  all  this  rehearsed,  and  he  dis- 
missed. I heard  thereof,  and  sued  to  come  home 
for  my  declaration.  After  I came  home,  I was  in 
hand  with  the  Earl  of  Essex  for  that  he  desired  me 
to  let  it  pass.  ‘ I was  cleared  well  enough ; ’ and  he 
told  me  much  of  this  thing,  that  I have  in  the  mat- 
ter rehearsed.  If  this  were  not  sufficient  to  satisfy 
your  conscience,  then  take  more  with  you. 

Within  six  months  after  that  I came  home,  so  far 
unlike  was  it,  that  any  of  these  gear,  both  then 
known,  examined,  and  dismissed,  should  be  taken 
for  treason,  that  I was  sent  again  Ambassador  to 
the  Emperor  at  his  coming  into  France,  and  the 
King’s  Grace  had  rewarded  me  with  a good  piece 
of  lands,  above  my  deserving.  And  then  it  was 
said  unto  me,  ‘ I was  used  for  the  necessity,’  yea, 
and  my  instrument  of  my  treasons  was  sent  with 
me,  Mr.  Mason.  I came  home  in  the  beginning  of 
the  last  summer.  I ran  not  away  at  none  of  all 
these  goings  over.  All  this  while,  till  now,  there 
hath  been  no  question  of  this  reckoning.  If  any 
thing  of  new  be  against  me,  which  is  not  alleged,  if 
it  be  nothing  but  this,  it  hath  been  tried  and  dis- 
missed. You  see  what  evidence  the  Counsellors 
gave  against  me.  The  confidence  put  in  my  affairs 
is  for  you  to  acquit  me.  And  it  is  a naughty  fear 
(if  any  man  have  any  such)  to  think  a Quest  dare 


XC  THE  DEFENCE  OF  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 

not  acquit  a man  of  treason  when  they  think  him 
clear;  for  it  were  a foul  slander  to  the  King’s 
Majesty.  God  be  thanked,  he  is  no  tyrant : he  will 
no  such  things  against  men’s  conscience : he  will  but 
his  laws,  and  his  laws  with  mercy.  What  dis- 
pleasure bare  he  to  the  Lords  for  the  acquitting  the 
Lord  Dacres  ? Never  none ; nor  will  not  unto  you, 
if  you  do  as  your  conscience  leads  you.  And  for  a 
great  cause : the  law  ministereth  betwixt  the  King 
and  his  subject  an  oath  to  the  Quest  in  favour  of  the 
subject,  for  it  suppose th  more  favour  to  be  borne  to 
the  Prince  than  to  the  party,  if  the  oath  bound  not 
Christian  men’s  conscience. 

Thus  much  I thought  to  say  unto  you  before  both 
God  and  man  to  discharge  me,  that  I seem  not  to 
perish  in  my  own  fault,  for  lack  of  declaring  my 
truth;  and  afore  God  and  all  these  men,  I charge 
you  with  my  innocent  truth,  that  in  case  (as  God 
defend)  ye  be  guilty  of  mine  innocent  blood,  that  ye 
before  his  tribunal  shall  be  inexcusable.  And  for 
conclusion,  our  Lord  put  in  your  hearts  to  pro- 
nounce upon  me  according  as  I have  willed  to  the 
King,  my  Master  and  Sovereign,  in  heart,  will,  and 
wish. 


T.  W. 


POEMS. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


XIX 


suddenly  sent  on  his  embassy,  Wyatt  left  his  private 
affairs  in  considerable  disorder ; and  Cromwell  thus 
alluded  to  the  circumstance : — 

“ For  your  part  I would  have  you  in  nowise  to 
desire  any  such  matter ; ^ it  would  be  taken  in  evil 
part,  and  yet  you  shall  never  therein  obtain  your 
purpose.  Mistrust  not  but  you  vshall  have  as  much 
favour  as  I may  extend  unto  you.  And  indeed 
you  had  need  of  friendship ; for  I have  not  seen 
a wise  man  leave  his  things  so  rawly,  as  yours  be 
left.’’ 

A passage  in  Cromwell’s  letter  of  the  8th  April, 
1538,  announcing  an  increase  to  his  allowance,  tends 
to  show  that  his  friends  were  not  very  zealous  in 
promoting  his  interests  : — 

^^Your  agents  here,  if  you  have  any,  be  very 
slack  to  call  upon  any  man  for  you.  Your  brother 
Hawte  t was  not  thrice  here  since  you  went ; and 
the  rest  I hear  nothing  of,  unless  it  be  when  nothing 
is  to  be  done.  I never  saw  man  that  had  so  many 
friends  here,  leave  so  few  perfect  friends  behind  him. 
Quicken  them  with  your  letters ; and  in  the  mean 
season  as  I have  been,  so  shall  I be  both  your  friend 
and  your  solicitor.” 

* Charging  the  King  interest  on  his  allowance/ 
t Sir  Thomas  Wyatt’s  son  married  Jane,  daughter  and  co- 
heiress of  Sir  William  Hawte,  who  was  the  individual  alluded 
to,  it  being  then  common  to  apply  the  word  “brother”  or 
“sister,”  to  persons  whose  children  had  married. 


XX 


MEMOIR  OF 


Dr.  Nott  says,  Wyatt  went  to  England  early  in 
the  spring  of  1538,  at  the  request  of  the  Emperor, 
to  communicate  his  sentiments  more  fully  to  Henry, 
than  he  could  do  by  writing,  and  that  he  returned  to 
Spain  before  the  end  of  March.  This  may  be  true ; 
but  as  the  indorsements  of  Lord  Cromwelfs  letters 
prove  that  he  was  at  Barcelona  in  January  and 
March,  and  as  no  allusion  to  the  circumstance 
occurs  in  the  correspondence,  it  is  very  doubtful. 

Sir  Thomas  continued  accredited  to  the  Emperor 
for  some  months  ; and  in  May,  1538,  Bonner,  after- 
wards Bishop  of  London,  and  Dr.  Haynes  were 
joined  with  him  in  his  mission;  but  their  arrival 
tended  rather  to  embarrass  than  promote  the  King’s 
affairs.  The  Emperor  and  the  King  of  France  had 
an  interview  with  the  Pope  at  Nice  early  in  June, 
1538,  to  which  place  Sir  Thomas  also  proceeded. 
At  the  desire  of  the  Emperor  he  set  off  post  for 
England  to  obtain  Henry’s  instructions,  upon  some 
important  point,  but  being  delayed  on  his  arrival,  he 
could  not  return  to  Nice  within  the  fifteen  days  pre- 
scribed by  the  Emperor,  whom  he  followed  to  Mar- 
seilles, and  thence  to  Barcelona,  where  he  was  re- 
joined by  his  colleagues  Bonner  and  Haynes.  As 
he  is  styled  for  the  first  time  “ Gentleman  of  the 
King’s  Chamber,”  in  May,  1538,  it  may  be  inferred 
that  he  was  not  appointed  to  the  office  until  about 
that  time.  There  is  so  much  of  personal  matter  in 
a letter  from  him  to  Lord  Cromwell,  written  at 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATT. 


Toledo  in  January,  1539,  mat  it  will  be  inserted  at 
length : — 

“ Please  it  your  Lordship  for  this  time  to  accept 
short  letters,  remitting  the  same  to  the  letters  of  the 
King  more  largely  written.  I thank  your  Lordship 
for  the  giving  order  for  my  money  which  I lent  Mr. 
Bryan.*  If  the  King’s  honour,  more  than  his  credit, 
had  not  been  before  mine  eyes,  he  should  have  piped 
in  an  ivy  leaf  for  aught  of  me.  I report  me  to  Mr. 
Thirlby,  Loveday,  and  Sherington.  I humbly  thank 
you  also  for  your  advices  of  news.  By  our  Lord  it 
is  a notable  grace  that  the  King  hath  ever  had,  the 
discovery  of  conspiration  against  him.  I cannot  tell, 
but  that  God  claimeth  to  be  principal,  whether  he 
cause  more  to  allow  his  fortune,  or  his  minister’s.  I 
would  I could  persuade  these  preachers  as  well  to 
preach  his  grave  proceeding  against  the  Sacrarnen- 
taries  and  Anabaptists  (as  your  Lordship  writeth) 
as  they  do  the  burning  of  the  Bishop’s  bones.  But 
of  that,  nor  of  other  news,  on  my  faith,  I have 
no  letters  from  no  man  but  from  you. 

I cannot  tell  whether  it  be  that  men  are  more 


* Lord  Cromwell,  in  a letter  dated  28  Nov.  1538,  informed 
him  that,  “ Concerning  the  two  hundred  pounds,  which  ye  lent 
to  Sir  Francis  Brian,  whosoever  owed  them  I have  disbursed 
them,  and  paid  to  Mr.  Bonvixi.  Other  men  make,  in  manner  of 
their  debts  mine  own;  for  very  oft  where  they  have  borrowed 
I am  fained  to  pay.” 


XXll 


MEMOIR  OF 


scrupulous  in  writing  than  negligent  to  do  their 
friends  pleasure.  Here  are  already  news  of  the 
condemnation  of  the  Marquis  of  Montagu,  of  his 
brother,  of  Sir  Edward  Nevill,  and  of  three  servants ; 
but  of  the  particularities  I hear  nothing.  I have  had 
it  told  me  by  some  here  of  reputation,  that  peradven- 
ture  I was  had  in  suspect  both  with  the  King  and 
you,  as  they  said  it  was  told  them ; but  like  as  I 
take  it  light,  so  I ascribe  it  to  such  invention  as 
some  of  my  good  friends  would  be  glad  to  have  it. 

“ I shall  not  let  for  all  that  to  solicit  at  your  Lord- 
ship’s hands  my  coming  home,  and  there  let  me,  red- 
dere  rationem.  But  out  of  game,  I beseech  your 
Lordship  humbly  to  help  me.  I need  no  long  per- 
suasions. You  know  what  case  I am  in.  I have 
written  this  unto  you.  I am  at  the  wall ; I am  not 
able  to  endure  to  march,  and  the  rest  shall  all  be 
the  King’s  dishonour  and  my  shame ; besides  the 
going  to  nought  of  all  my  particular  things.  Have 
some  consideration  between  them  that  feign  excuses 

for  such  with and  him  that  endeth  frankly  his 

service  to  his  Majesty.  I can  no  more  but  remit  me 
wholly  to  your  Lordship  ; and  if  it  be  not  sufficient 
that  ye  know  of  the  strait  I am  in,  inform  yourself 
of  Mr.  Vane  and  Mr.  Poynings.  And  thus  after 
my  most  humble  recommendations,  our  Lord  send 
you  good  life  and  long. 

‘^At  Toledo  the  2d  of  January,  [1538-9,]  Don 
Diego  told  me  [he]  had  obtained  license  for  two 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xxiii 


genets  for  you,  and  that  -he  would  deliver  them  to^ 
me  to  send  them.  I trust  to  bring  them  myself  to 
see  them  better  ordered.” 

Towards  the  end  of  1538,  Wyatt  became  earnest 
in  his  solicitations  to  be  recalled,  being  impelled  by 
the  state  of  his  finances,  as  his  allowance  fell  very 
short  of  his  expenses,  and  still  more,  by  his  appre- 
hension that  Bonner,  with  whom  he  had  not  lived  on 
cordial  terms,  and  who  had  preceded  him  to  Eng- 
land, might  poison  Henry’s  mind  against  him.  On 
the  19th  of  January,  1539,  Cromwell  informed  him 
that  the  King  insisted  upon  his  remaining  until 
April,  and  desired  him  to  state  what  money  he  re- 
quired, as  he  would  assist  him ; but  he  accompanied 
this  promise  with  a reproach  which  shows  that  in 
pecuniary  affairs  Wyatt  was  generous  to  a fault:  — 

“ I advise  you  to  take  patiently  your  abode  there 
until  April,  and  to  send  me  word  what  money  ye 
shall  need  to  have  sent  unto  you,  for  I shall  help 
you.  Assuring  you  that  I could  not  see  you  that 
went,  and  hath  abided  there  honestly  furnished,  to 
return  home,  and  at  the  latter  end  return  needy  and 
disfurnished.  I do  better  tender  the  King’s  honour, 
and  do  esteem  you  better  than  so  to  suffer  you 
to  lack.  Advising  you,  nevertheless,  that  I think 
your  gentle  frank  heart  doth  much  impoverish 
you.  When  you  have  money,  you  are  content 
to  depart  with  it  and  lend  it,  as  you  did  lately 
two  hundred  ducats  to  Mr.  Hobby,  the  which  I 


xxiv 


MEMOIR  OF 


think  had  no  need  of  them ; for  he  had  large  fur- 
nishment  of  money  at  his  departure  hence,  and  like- 
wise at  his  return.  We  accustom  not  to  send  men 
disprovided  so  far.  Take  heed,  therefore,  how  you 
depart  of  such  portion  as  ye  need.  And  foresee 
rather  to  be  provided  yourself,  than  for  the  promotion 
of  other  to  leave  yourself  naked.  Politic  charity 
proceedeth  not  that  way.  If  you  shall  advertise  me 
what  sums  ye  shall  need,  I shall  take  a way  that  ye 
shall  be  furnished.” 

At  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  he  requested 
a grant  of  the  Friary  of  Alresford,  which  Cromwell 
obtained  for  him,  and  in  conveying  that  intelligence, 
dn  February,  1539,  he  added,  will  be  glad  in  all 
other  things  to  employ  myself  to  further  your  rea- 
sonable desires.”  Agreeably  to  Lord  Cromwell’s 
promise,  Wyatt  was  superseded  in  April,  but  he  did 
not  arrive  in  England  until  the  end  of  June,  or  begin- 
ning of  July.  It  would  seem  from  one  of  Crom- 
well’s letters  on  the  subject  of  his  return,  that  he 
met  with  a gratifying  reception  from  the  King ; and 
as  soon  as  he  was  permitted,  he  hastened  to  his  own 
home,  but  he  was  not  long  allowed  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  domestic  life. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  same  year,  the  Emperor 
proceeded  through  France  into  the  Low  Countries, 
and  as  Henry  was  anxious  to  watch  his  conduct, 
Wyatt  was  selected  for  the  purpose.  He  was  ac- 
cordingly reappointed  Ambassador  to  the  Emperor, 
and  arrived  at  Paris  in  the  middle  of  November. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


XXV 


After  a short  sojourn  lie  proceeded  to  Blois,  where 
he  found  the  French  monarch,  of  whom  he  immedi- 
ately obtained  an  interview,  the  particulars  of  which 
are  described  in  a long  despatch,  dated  on  the  2nd 
of  December,  1539.^  Sir  Thomas  quitted  Blois  the 
next  day,  and  joined  the  Emperor  at  Chateaureault 
on  the  10th.  The  letters  which  he  wrote  to  the 
King,  describing  what  occurred  at  the  various  audi- 
ences with  that  monarch,  contain  nothing  which  throws 
any  other  light  on  Wyatt’s  character,  than  that  they 
establish  his  claims  to  sagacity  and  ability : they  are 
written  with  great  clearness,  and  are  more  interest- 
ing than  most  letters  of  a political  nature.  From 
Chateaureault  he  attended  the  Emperor  to  Paris, 
and  thence  to  Brussels,  from  which  place  he  wrote 
Cromwell  on  the  22nd  January,  1540.  From  that 
letter  it  seems  that  he  was  tired  of  his  situation,  and 
had  been  urgent  for  his  recall : he  complained  in 
strong  terms  of  the  heavy  expenses  which  he  in- 
curred, but  added,  that  he  derived  consolation  from 
learning  that  his  services  were  acceptable  to  the 
King.  He  says : — 

“ I am  sorry  that  I have  troubled  your  Lordship 
with  touching  my  request  for  my  revocation,  seeing 
so  small  appearance  of  the  attaining  the  same.  I 
meant  not  even  now  in  all  my  last,  but  that  the  way 
might  by  your  Lordship  have  been  framed  against 
the  expiration  of  my  four  months,,  to  be  ended  at  the 


Printed  by  Dr.  Nott,  p.  350-355. 


xxvi 


MEMOIR  OF 


9 til  or  lOth  of  March,  for  the  which  I have  received. 
And  here  I think  it  not  unmeet  to  advertise  your 
Lordship  what  comfort  I find  at  my  coming  for  the 
disease  I have  long  had.  First,  my  house  rent 
standeth  me  after  the  rate  little  lack  of  one  hundred 
pounds  by  the  year,  without  stabling ; besides,  the 
least  fire  I make  to  warm  my  shirt  by  stands  me  a 
groat.  In  my  diet  money  I lose  in  the  value  eight 
shillings  and  eight  pence  every  day,  for  that  the 
angel  is  here  but  worth  six  shillings  and  fourpence ; 
a barrel  of  beer  that  in  England  were  worth  twenty 
pence,  it  costs  me  here  with  the  excise  four  shillings ; 
a bushel  of  oats  is  worth  two  shillings ; and  other 
things  be  not  unlike  the  rate.  I beseech  your  Lord- 
ship  take  not  this  that  I am  so  eager  upon  the  King 
that  I would  augment  my  diet,  for  it  is  so  honoura- 
ble it  were  not  honest  to  desire  it,  but  for  because  I 
would  another  should  have  it.  That  your  Lord- 
ship  writeth  the  King’s  Highness  to  take  in  so  good 
part  my  doings,  I pray  God,  it  may  proceed  of  my 
merits  as  well  as  that  doth  upon  his  goodness ; for  if 
in  the  while  that  I would  abide  in  this  place  my 
deeds  might  deserve  any  thing,  would  God  my  re- 
vocation and  his  Grace’s  continuance  of  favour  might 
be  my  reward.” 

In  his  letter  to  Cromwell,  of  the  9th  February,  he 
gave  the  following  account  of  his  pecuniary  affairs ; 
and  concluded  by  again  pressing,  as  the  greatest 
possible  favour,  that  he  might  be  recalled : — 

I must  beseech  your  Lordship  to  move  unto  the 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT.  XXVU 

King’s  Highness  for  me  this  one  suit.  Among 
my  many  other  great  debts,  I owe  his  Grace  five 
hundred  marks  for  my  livery,^  which  I could  not 
get  out  till  my  last  being  in  England ; and  I must 
pay  it  by  forty  pounds  yearly.  I owe  him  beside 
two  hundred  and  fifty  marks  of  old  debt,  which  in 
all  maketh  five  hundred  pounds.  If  his  Grace  will 
so  much  be  my  good  Lord,  as  to  let  me  take  out  all 
mine  obligations  and  bonds,  and  take  good  surety  in 
recognizance  for  the  said  five  hundred  pounds,  after 
fifty  pounds  a year,  truly  to  be  paid,  I would  trust  so 
a little  and  a little  to  creep  out  of  debt,  with  selling 
of  a little  land  more.  If  not,  on  my  faith,  I see  no 
remedy.  I owe  my  brother  Lee  as  much,  beside 
other  infinite  that  make  me  weary  to  think  on 
them.  I have  written  to  Sir  Thomas  Poynings  to 
know  your  Lordship’s  answer  in  this  : and  also  most 
humbly  to  thank  you  for  your  goodness  toward  me, 
touching  that  he  moved  you  for  me  of  the  Lordship 
of  Ditton,  that  is  John  Lee’s.  But  surely  I am  not 
able  to  buy  it,  unless  the  King’s  great  liberality 
shewed  unto  me  in  this. case ; and  yet  the  thing  is  so 
necessary  for  me,  as  that  that  lieth  in  the  midst  of 
my  land,  and  within  a mile  of  my  house.  I remit 
me  wholly  to  your  good  Lordsliip,  in  whom  is  my 
only  trust  next  to  the  King’s  Majesty.  But  above 
any  of  all  these  things  I recommend  unto  your  Lord- 
ship  the  good  remembrance  when  time  shall  be  of 


* Permission  to  inherit  his  father’s  lands. 


XXVlll 


MEMOIR  OF 


mj  revocation ; and  I am  always  your  bond  bedes- 
man, as  our  Lord  knoweth,  who  send  you  good 
life  and  long.  At  Brussels,  this  Shrove  Tuesday. 
[1540.]” 

The  Emperor’s  court  having  removed  to  Ghent, 
Wyatt  followed,  and  was  there  in  March  and  April, 
1540 ; but  the  letters  which  he  addressed  to  Henry, 
or  Lord  Cromwell,  contain  no  other  allusion  to  his 
private  concerns  than  repeated  requests  to  be  allowed 
to  return.  This  was  granted  him  towards  the  end 
of  April;  but  the  arrival  of  the  Duke  of  Cleves 
at  Ghent  delayed  his  departure  until  about  the 
middle  of  May,  when  he  arrived  in  England,  and 
was  received  by  Henry  with  flattering  marks  of 
approbation. 

Within  a few  weeks  Wyatt’s  constant  friend, 
Cromwell,  incurred  the  King’s  displeasure,  and  when 
his  fate  seemed  no  longer  doubtful,  Sir  Thomas 
anticipated  that  Bonner,  who  was  then  Bishop  of 
London,  and  his  other  enemies  would  avail  them- 
selves of  the  fall  of  the  favourite,  to  renew  their 
attempts  against  him.  Nor  was  he  deceived ; for 
in  consequence  of  the  bishop’s  representations,  he 
was  arrested  and  sent  to  the  Tower,  either  late  in 
1540,  or  early  in  1541,  on  the  charges  of  holding 
a treasonable  correspondence  with  Cardinal  Pole, 
and  of  having  treated  the  King  with  disrespect 
whilst  Ambassador  to  the  Emperor  in  1538  and 
1539.  Upon  the  somewhat  questionable  authority 
of  the  beautiful  lines  which  lie  addressed  to  Sir 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 


xxix 


Francis  Bryan  from  the  Tower, ^ he  is  supposed  to 
have  been  treated  with  extreme  rigour  whilst  in  con- 
finement ; for  the  account  which  he  there  gives  of 
his  sufferings  has  been  taken  in  the  most  literal 
sense,  without  an  allowance  being  made  for  the  ex- 
aggeration which  is  permitted  to  a poetical  descrip- 
tion. After  being  some  time  in  the  Tower,  he  was 
ordered  by  the  Privy  Council  to  state  what  had 
occurred  during  his  residence  at  the  Emperor’s  court, 
which  could  possibly  give  offence.  To  this  command 
he  replied  by  the  letter  which  will  be  found  at  the 
end  of  this  Memoir ; and  on  being  shortly  after- 
wards indicted  and  brought  to  trial,  he  delivered 
the  defence  which  has  contributed  almost  as  much 
as  his  Poems  to  his  celebrity.  As  it  is  too  long  to 
be  introduced  into  this  sketch  of  his  life,  it  is  ap- 
pended thereto,  and  cannot  fail  to  be  read  with  in- 
terest. After  artfully  working  upon  the  feelings  of 
the  jury,  by  urging  the  injury  he  sustained  in  not 
being  allowed  counsel,  he  proceeded  to  refute  Bon- 
ner’s charges,  and  then  retorted  upon  his  accuser  in 
a strain  of  satire  that  places  his  talents  in  the  most 
favourable  point  of  view.  His  defence  produced 
his  acquittal,  and  as  early  as  July  in  the  same  year, 
the  King  granted  him  some  lands  at  Lambeth,  as 
if  to  mark  his  conviction  of  his  innocence.  Henry 
followed  up  this  act  of  favour  in  the  next  year, 
by  appointing  him  High  Steward  of  the  Manor  of 


* See  page  176. 


XXX 


MEMOIR  OF 


Maidstone,  and  giving  him  estates  in  Dorsetshire 
and  Somersetshire,  in  exchange  for  other  of  less 
value  in  Kent. 

It  was  evidently  to  the  narrow  escape  which  Wyatt 
experienced  on  this  occasion  that  his  friend,  the  Earl 
of  Surrey,  alludes  in  one  of  his  poems  on  Sir 
Thomas’s  death,  in  which  he  ascribes  the  malignity 
his  enemies  exhibited,  to  their  being  envious  of  his 
merits : — 

“ Some,  that  in  presence  of  thy  livelihed 
Lurked,  whose  breasts  envy  with  hate  had  swoln.” 

“ Some,  that  watched  with  the  murderer’s  knife, 

With  eager  thirst  to  drink  thy  guiltless  blood, 

Whose  practice  brake  by  happy  end  of  life, 

With  envious  tears  to  hear  thy  fame  so  good.” 

But  I,”  the  Earl  adds, 

“ knew  what  harbour’d  in  that  head; 

What  virtues  rare  were  temper’d  in  that  breast.”  * 

Wyatt  retired  to  his  seat  at  Allington  soon  after 
this  affair,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  was 
at  this  time  he  wrote  the  satires,  addressed  to  his 
friend,  John  Pointz,  in  which  he  draws  so  pleasing 
a picture  of  the  advantages  of  retirement  over  the 
dangers  of  a public  life.  Many  lines  of  those  pieces 
may  be  received  as  a faithful  description  of  his  own 
feelings ; and  he  points  out  the  security  and  happi- 
ness of  his  home,  with  similar  sensations  to  those 
of  the  mariner,  who  finds  himself  safely  anchored  in 


* Surrey’s  Poems,  page  60. 


SONGS  AND  SONNETS. 


THE  LOVER  FOR  SHAMEFASTNESS  HIDETH  HIS 
DESIRE  WITHIN  HIS  FAITHFUL  HEART. 

The  long  love  that  in  my  thought  I harbour, 

And  in  my  heart  doth  keep  his  residence, 

Into  my  face  presseth  with  bold  pretence. 

And  there  campeth  displaying  his  banner. 

She  that  me  learns  to  love  and  to  suffer, 

And  wills  that  my  trust,  and  lusf  s negligence 

Be  reined  by  reason,  shame,  and  reverence. 

With  his  hardiness  takes  displeasure. 

Wherewith  love  to  the  heart’s  forest  he  fleeth, 

\ 

Leaving  his  enterprise  with  pain  and  cry. 

And  there  him  hideth,  and -not  appeareth. 

What  may  I do,  when  my  master  feareth. 

But  in  the  field  with  him  to  live  and  die  ? 

For  good  is  the  life,  ending  faithfully. 

— # — 

THE  LOVEH  WAXETH  WISER,  AND  WILL  NOT 
DIE  FOR  AFFECTION. 

Yet  was  I never  of  your  love  aggrieved. 

Nor  never  shall  while  that  my  life  doth  last : 

But  of  hating  myself,  that  date  is  past ; 

And  tears  continual  sore  have  me  wearied : 

1 


SIR  TH03IAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


I will  not  yet  in  my  grave  be  buried ; 

JSTor  on  my  tomb  your  name  have  fixed  fast, 

As  cruel  cause,  that  did  the  spirit  soon  haste 
From  th’  unhappy  bones,  by  great  sighs  stirred. 
Then  if  a heart  of  amorous  faith  and  will 
Content  your  mind  withouten  doing  grief ; 

Please  it  you  so  to  this  to  do  relief : 

If  otherwise  you  seek  for  to  fulfil 

Your  wrath,  you  err,  and  shall  not  as  you  ween ; 
And  you  yourself  the  cause  thereof  have  been. 


THE  ABUSED  LOYEK  SEETH  HIS  FOLLY  AND 
INTENDETH  TO  TRUST  NO  MORE. 

Was  never  file  yet  half  so  well  yfiled, 

To  file  a file  for  any  smith’s  intent, 

As  I was  made  a filing  instrument. 

To  frame  other,  while  that  I was  beguiled : 

But  reason,  lo,  hath  at  my  folly  smiled. 

And  pardoned  me,  since  that  I me  repent 
Of  my  last  years,  and  of  my  time  mispent. 

For  youth  led  me,  and  falsehood  me  misguided. 

Yet  this  trust  I have  of  great  apparence, 

Since  that  deceit  is  aye  returnable, 

Of  very  force  it  is  agreeable. 

That  therewithal  be  done  the  recompense : 

Then  guile  beguiled  plained  should  be  never ; 
And  the  reward  is  little  trust  for  ever. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


3 


THE 

LOVER  BESCRIBETH  HIS  BEING  STRICKEN 
WITH  SIGHT  OE  HIS  LOVE. 

The  lively  sparks  that  issue  from  those  eyes, 
Against  the  which  there  vaileth  no  defence, 

Have  pierc’d  my  heart,  and  done  it  none  offence. 
With  quaking  pleasure  more  than  once  or  twice. 
Was  never  man  could  any  thing  devise, 

Sunbeams  to  turn  with  so  great  vehemence 
To  daze  man’s  sight,  as  by  their  bright  presence 
Dazed  am  I ; much  like  unto  the  guise 
Of  one  stricken  with  dint  of  lightning, 

Blind  with  the  stroke,  and  crying  here  and  there ; 
So  call  I for  help,  I not  when  nor  where. 

The  pain  of  my  fall  patiently  bearing : 

For  straight  after  the  blaze,  as  is  no  wonder. 

Of  deadly  noise  hear  I the  fearful  thunder. 

— ♦ ■ 

THE  WAVERING  LOVER  WILLETH,  AND 
DREADETH,  TO  MOVE  HIS  DESIRE. 

Such  vain  thought  as  wonted  to  mislead  me 
In  desert  hope,  by  well  assured  moan. 

Makes  me  from  company  to  live  alone. 

In  following  her  whom  reason  bids  me  flee. 


4 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


And  after  her  my  heart  would  fain  be  gone, 

But  armed  sighs  my  way  do  stop  anon, 

’Twixt  hope  and  dread  locking  my  liberty ; 

So  fleeth  she  by  gentle  cruelty. 

Yet  as  I guess,  under  disdainful  brow 
One  beam  of  ruth  is  in  her  cloudy  look : 

Which  comforts  the  mind,  that  erst  for  fear  shook ; 
That  bolded  the  way  straight ; then  seek  I how 
To  utter  forth  the  smart  I bide  within ; 

But  such  it  is,  I not  how  to  begin. 

— 4 — 

THE  LOYEIl  HAVING  DREAMED  ENJOYING 

OF  HIS  LOVE,  COMPLAINETH  THAT  THE  DKEAM  IS 
HOT  EITHER  LONGER  OR  TRUER. 

Unstable  dream,  according  to  the  place. 

Be  steadfast  once,  or  else  at  least  be  true : 

By  tasted  sweetness  make  me  not  to  rue 
The  sudden  loss  of  thy  false,  feigned  grace. 

By  good  respect,  in  such  a dangerous  case. 

Thou  broughtest  not  her  into  these  tossing  seas ; 
But  madest  my  sprite  to  live,  my  care  t’  encrease. 
My  body  in  tempest  her  delight  t’  embrace. 

The  body  dead,  the  spirit  had  his  desire ; 

Painless  was  th’  one,  th’  other  in  delight. 

Why  then,  alas,  did  it  not  keep  it  right. 

But  thus  return  to  leap  into  the  fire ; 

And  where  it  was  at  wish,  could  not  remain  ? 
Such  mocks  of  dreams  do  turn  to  deadly  pain. 


SIB  THOMAS  WTATT’S  POEMS. 


5 


THE  LOVER  UNHAPPY  BIDDETH  HAPPY 

LOVERS  REJOICE  IN  MAY,  WHILE  HE  WAILETH 
THAT  MONTH  TO  HIM  MOST  UNLUCKY. 

Ye  that  in  love  find  luck  and  sweet  abundance. 
And  live  in  lust  of  joyful  jollity, 

Arise  for  shame,  do  way  our  sluggardy : 

Arise,  I say,  do  May  some  observance. 

Let  me  in  bed  lie  dreaming  in  mischance ; 

Let  me  remember  my  mishaps  unhappy. 

That  me  betide  in  May  most  commonly  ; 

As  one  whom  love  list  little  to  advance. 

Stephan  said  true,  that  my  nativity 
Mischanced  was  with  the  ruler  of  May. 

He  guessed  (I  prove)  of  that  the  verity. 

In  May  my  wealth,  and  eke  my  wits,  I say, 

Have  stond  so  oft  in  such  perplexity : 

Joy ; let  me  dream  of  your  felicity. 


THE  LOVER  CONFESSETH  HIM  IN  LOVE 
WITH  PHYLLIS. 

If  waker  care  ; if  sudden  pale  colour ; 

If  many  sighs  with  little  speech  to  plain : 

Now  joy,  now  woe,  if  they  my  chere  distain ; 

For  hope  of  small,  if  much  to  fear  therefore ; 


6 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


To  haste  or  slack,  mj  pace  to  less,  or  more ; 
Be  sign  of  love,  then  do  I love  again. 

If  thou  ask  whom ; sure,  since  I did  refrain 
Brunet,  that  set  my  wealth  in  such  a roar, 
Th’  unfeigned  cheer  of  Phyllis  hath  the  place 
That  Brunet  had ; she  hath,  and  ever  shall. 
She  from  myself  now  hath  me  in  her  grace  ; 
She  hath  in  hand  my  wit,  my  will,  and  all. 
My  heart  alone  well  worthy  she  doth  stay. 
Without  whose  help  scant  do  I live  a day. 


or  OTHEES^  EEIGNED  SOEEOW,  AND  THE 
LOVEE’S  EEIGNED  MIETH. 

C^SAR,  when  that  the  traitor  of  Egypt 
With  th’  honourable  head  did  him  present. 
Covering  his  heart’s  gladness,  did  represent 
Plaint  with  his  tears  outward,  as  it  is  writ. 

Eke  Hannibal,  when  fortune  him  outshy t ^ 

Clean  from  his  reign,  and  from  all  his  intent,  . 
Laugh’d  to  his  folk,  whom  sorrow  did  torment ; 

His  cruel  despite  for  to  disgorge  and  quit. 

So  chanced  me,  that  every  passion 
The  mind  hideth  by  colour  contrary. 

With  feigned  visage,  now  sad,  now  merry ; 
Whereby  if  that  I laugh  at  any  season. 

It  is  because  I have  none  other  way 
To  cloke  my  care,  but  under  sport  and  play. 


* Outshut. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


7 


OF  CHANGE  IN  MIND. 

Each  man  me  telleth  I change  most  my  devise ; 
And  on  my  faith,  methink  it  good  reason 
To  change  purpose,  like  after  the  season. 

For  in  each  case  to  keep  still  one  guise. 

Is  meet  for  them  that  would  be  taken  wise ; 

And  I am  not  of  such  manner  condition ; 

But  treated  after  a diverse  fashion ; 

And  thereupon  my  diverseness  doth  rise. 

But  you,  this  diverseness  that  blamen  most. 

Change  you  no  more,  but  still  after  one  rate 
Treat  you  me  well,  and  keep  you  in  that  state ; 

And  while  with  me  doth  dwell  this  wearied  ghost. 
My  word,  nor  I,  shall  not  be  variable. 

But  always  one ; your  own  both  firm  and  stable. 

— • — 

HOW  THE  LOVER  PERISHETH  IN  HIS  DELIGHT 
AS  THE  FLY  IN  THE  FIRE. 

Some  fowls  there  be  that  have  so  perfect  sight, 
Against  the  sun  their  eyes  for  to  defend ; 

And  some,  because  the  light  doth  them  offend, 
Never  appear  but  in  the  dark  or  night : 

Other  rejoice  to  see  the  fire  so  bright. 


8 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


And  ween  to  play  in  it,  as  they  pretend, 

But  find  contrary  of  it,  that  they  intend. 

Alas  ! of  that  sort  may  I be  by  right ; 

F or  to  withstand  her  look  I am  not  able  ; ‘ 

Yet  can  I not  hide  me  in  no  dark  place ; 

So  followeth  me  remembrance  of  that  face. 
That  with  my  teary  eyen,  swoln,  and  unstable, 
My  destiny  to  behold  her  doth  me  lead ; 
And  yet  I know  I run  into  the  glead. 


AGAINST  HIS  TONGUE  THAT  FAILED  TO 
UTTER  HIS  SUITS. 

Because  I still  kept  thee  fro’  lies  and  blame. 

And  to  my  power  always  thee  honoured. 

Unkind  tongue ! to  ill  hast  thou  me  rencFred, 

For  such  desert  to  do  me  wreke  and  shame. 

In  need  of  succour  most  when  that  I am, 

To  ask  reward,  thou  stand’st  like  one  afraid : 
Alway  most  cold,  and  if  one  word  be  said, 

As  in  a dream,  unperfect  is  the  same. 

And  ye  salt  tears,  against  my  will  each  night 
That  are  with  me,  when  I would  be  alone ; 

Then  are  ye  gone  when  I should  make  my  moan : 
And  ye  so  ready  sighs  to  make  me  shright. 

Then  are  ye  slack  when  that  ye  should  outstart 
And  only  doth  my  look  declare  my  heart 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


9 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  CONTRARIOUS  PAS- 
SIONS IN  A LOVER. 

I FIND  no  peace,  and  all  my  war  is  done ; 

I fear  and  hope,  I burn,  and  freeze  like  ice ; 

I fly  aloft,  yet  can  I not  arise ; 

And  nought  I have,  and  all  the  world  I seize  on, 
That  locks  nor  loseth,  holdeth  me  in  prison. 

And  holds  me  not,  yet  can  I scape  no  wise : 

Nor  letteth  me  live,  nor  die,  at  my  devise. 

And  yet  of  death  it  giveth  me  occasion. 

Without  eye  I see ; without  tongue  I plain : 

I wish  to  perish,  yet  I ask  for  health ; 

I love  another,  and  I hate  myself ; 

I feed  me  in  sorrow,  and  laugh  in  all  my  pain. 

Lo,  thus  displeaseth  me  both  death  and  life, 

And  my  delight  is  causer  of  this  strife. 

— » — 

THE  LOVER  COMPARETH  HIS  STATE  TO  A SHIP 
IN  PERILOUS  STORM  TOSSED  ON  THE  SEA. 

My  galley  charged  with  forgetfulness. 

Through  sharp  seas,  in  winter  nights,  doth  pass 
’Tween  rock  and  rock ; and  eke  my  foe,  alas. 

That  is  my  lord,  steereth  with  cruelness : 

And  every  hour,  a thought  in  readiness. 


10 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


As  thougli  that  death  were  light  in  such  a case. 
An  endless  wind  doth  tear  the  sail  apace 
Of  forced  sighs  and  trusty  fearfulness  ; 

A rain  of  tears,  a cloud  of  dark  disdain, 

Have  done  the  wearied  cords  great  hinderance : 
Wreathed  with  error,  and  with  ignorance  ; 

The  stars  be  hid  that  lead  me  to  this  pain ; 
Drown’d  is  reason  that  should  be  my  comfort, 
And  I remain,  despairing  of  the  port. 


OF  DOUBTFUL  LOVE. 

Avising-  the  bright  beams  of  those  fair  eyes, 

Where  he  abides  that  mine  oft  moistens  and  washeth ; 
The  wearied  mind  straight  from  the  heart  departeth. 
To  rest  within  his  worldly  paradise, 

And  bitter  finds  the  sweet,  under  his  guise. 

What  webs  there  he  hath  wrought,  well  he  per- 
ceiveth ; 

Whereby  then  with  himself  on  love  he  plaineth. 
That  spurs  with  fire,  and  bridleth  eke  with  ice. 

In  such  extremity  thus  is  he  brought : 

Frozen  now  cold,  and  now  he  stands  in  flame : 
’Twixt  woe  and  wealth,  betwixt  earnest  and  game. 
With  seldom  glad,  and  many  a diverse  thought. 

In  sore  repentance  of  his  hardiness. 

Of  such  a root,  lo,  cometh  fruit  fruitless. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


11 


THE  LOVER  ABUSED  RENOUNCETH  LOVE. 

My  love  to  scorn,  my  service  to  retain, 

Therein,  methought,  you  used  cruelty ; 

Since  with  good  will  I lost  my  liberty. 

To  follow  her  which  causeth  all  my  pain.^ 

Might  never  woe  yet  cause  me  to  refrain ; 

But  only  this,  which  is  extremity. 

To  give  me  nought,  alas,  nor  to  agree 
That,  as  I was,  your  man  I might  remain : 

But  since  that  thus  ye  list  to  order  me. 

That  would  have  been  your  servant  true  and  fast ; 
Displease  you  not,  my  doting  time  is  past ; 

And  with  my  loss  to  leave  I must  agree : 

For  as  there  is  a certain  time  to  rage. 

So  is  there  time  such  madness  to  assuage. 


— « — 

TO  HIS  LADY,  CRUEL  OVER  HER  YIELDING 
LOVER. 

Such  is  the  course  that  nature’s  kind  hath  wrought, 
That  snakes  have  time  to  cast  away  their  stings : 
Against  chain’d  prisoners  what  need  defence  be 
sought? 

The  fierce  lion  will  hurt  no  yielden  things : 

* This  line  is  supplied  in  Nott’s  edition  from  the  Devonshire 
MS. 


12 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATrS  POEMS. 


Why  should  such  spite  be  nursed  then  by  thought  ? 
Sith  all  these  powers  are  prest  under  thy  wings ; 
And  eke  thou  seest,  and  reason  thee  hath  taught, 
What  mischief  malice  many  ways  it  brings : 

Consider  eke,  that  spite  availeth  nought. 

Therefore  this  song  thy  fault  to  thee  it  sings : 
Displease  thee  not,  for  saying  thus  my  thought, 

Nor  hate  thou  him  from  whom  no  hate  forth  springs : 
For  furies  that  in  hell  be  execrable. 

For  that  they  hate,  are  made  most  miserable. 

— ♦ — 

HOW  UNPOSSIBLE  IT  IS  TO  FIND  QUIET  IN 
LOVE. 

Ever  my  hap  is  slack  and  slow  in  coming. 

Desire  increasing,  ay  my  hope  uncertain 
With  doubtful  love,  that  but  increaseth  pain ; 

For,  tiger  like,  so  swift  it  is  in  parting. 

Alas  1 the  snow  black  shall  it  be  and  scalding, 

The  sea  waterless,  and  fish  upon  the  mountain, 

The  Thames  shall  back  return  into  his  fountain. 

And  where  he  rose  the  sun  shall  take  lodging. 

Ere  I in  this  find  peace  or  quietness ; 

Or  that  Love,  or  my  Lady,  right-wisely, 

Leave  to  conspire  against  me  wrongfully. 

And  if  I have  after  such  bitterness. 

One  drop  of  sweet,  my  mouth  is  out  of  taste. 

That  all  my  trust  and  travail  is  but  waste. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


13 


OF  LOVE,  FORTUNE,  AND  THE  LOVER^S  MIND. 

Love,  Fortune,  and  mj  mind  which  do  remember 
Eke  that  is  now,  and  that,  that  once  hath  ben. 
Torment  my  heart  so  sore,  that  very  often 
I hate  and  envy  them  beyond  all  measure. 

Love  slayeth  mine  heart,  while  Fortune  is  depriver 
Of  all  my  comfort ; the  foolish  mind  then 
Burneth  and  plaineth,  as  one  that  very  seldome 
Liveth  in  rest.  So  still  in  displeasure 
My  pleasant  days  they  fleet  and  pass ; 

And  daily  doth  mine  ill  change  to  the  worse : 

While  more  than  half  is  run  now  of  my  course. 

Alas,  not  of  steel,  but  of  brittle  glass, 

I see  that  from  my  hand  falleth  my  trust. 

And  all  my  thoughts  are  dashed  into  dust. 

— « — 

THE  LOVER  PRAYETH  HIS  OFFERED  HEART 
TO  BE  RECEIVED. 

How  oft  have  I,  my  dear  and  cruel  foe. 

With  my  great  pain  to  get  some  peace  or  truce, 
Given  you  my  heart ; but  you  do  not  use 
In  so  high  things,  to  cast  your  mind  so  low. 


14  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

If  any  other  look  for  it,  as  you  trow, 

Their  vain  weak  hope  doth  greatly  them  abuse : 
And  that  thus  I disdain,  that  you  refuse ; 

It  was  once  mine,  it  can  no  more  be  so. 

If  you  it  chafe,  that  it  in  you  can  find, 

In  this  exile,  no  manner  of  comfort, 

Nor  live  alone,  nor  where  he  is  called  resort ; 
He  may  wander  from  his  natural  kind. 

So  shall  it  be  great  hurt  unto  us  twain. 

And  yours  the  loss,  and  mine  the  deadly  pain. 


THE  LOVER’S  LIFE  COMPARED  TO  THE  ALPS. 

Like  unto  these  unmeasurable  mountains 
So  is  my  painful  life,  the  burden  of  ire ; 

For  high  be  they,  and  high  is  my  desire ; 

And  I of  tears,  and  they  be  full  of  fountains : 

Under  craggy  rocks  they  have  barren  plains ; 

Hard  thoughts  in  me  my  woful  mind  doth  tire : 
Small  fruit  and  many  leaves  their  tops  do  attire, 
With  small  effect  great  trust  in  me  remains : 

The  boisterous  winds  oft  their  high  boughs  do  blast ; 
Hot  sighs  in  me  continually  be  shed : 

Wild  beasts  in  them,  fierce  love  in  me  is  fed ; 
Unmovable  am  I,  and  they  steadfast. 

Of  singing  birds  they  have  the  tune  and  note ; 
And  I always  plaints  passing  through  my  throat. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


15 


CHARGING  OF  HIS  LOVE  AS  UNPITEOUS  AND 
LOVING  OTHER. 

If  amorous  faith,  or  if  a heart  unfeigned, 

A sweet  langour,  a great  lovely  desire, 

If  honest  will  kindled  in  gentle  fire. 

If  long  error  in  a blind  maze  chained. 

If  in  my  visage  each  thought  distained. 

Or  if  my  sparkling  voice,  lower,  or  higher, 

"Which  fear  and  shame  so  wofully  doth  tire  ; 

If  pale  colour,  which  love,  alas,  hath  stained. 

If  to  have  another  than  myself  more  dear. 

If  wailing  or  sighing  continually. 

With  sorrowful  anger  feeding  busily. 

If  burning  far  off,  and  if  freezing  near. 

Are  cause  that  I by  love  myself  destroy. 

Yours  is  the  fault,  and  mine  the  great  annoy. 


y 

THE  LOVER  EORSAKETH  HIS  UNKIND  LOVE. 

(>-  My  heart  I gave  thee,  not  to  do  it  pain. 

But  to  preserve,  lo,  it  to  thee  was  taken. 

^ I served  thee,  not  that  I should  be  forsaken ; 

CX  But,  that  I should  receive  reward  again, 

It  I was  content  thy  servant  to  remain ; 

And  not  to  be  repayed  on  this  fashion. 

^ Now,  since  in  thee  there  is  none  other  reason, 


16 


SIK  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


Displease  thee  not,  if  that  I do  refrain. 

Unsatiate  of  my  woe,  and  thy  desire  ; 

Assured  by  craft  for  to  excuse  thy  fault : 

But,  since  it  pleaseth  thee  to  feign  default, 
Farewell,  I say,  departing  from  the  fire. 

For  he  that  doth  believe,  bearing  in  hand, 
Plougheth  in  the  water,  and  soweth  in  the  sand. 

— # — 

THE  LOVER  DESCRIBETH  HIS  RESTLESS 
STATE. 

The  flaming  sighs  that  boil  within  my  breast. 
Sometime  break  forth,  and  they  can  well  declare 
The  heart’s  unrest,  and  how  that  it  doth  fare, 

The  pain  thereof,  the  grief,  and  all  the  rest. 

The  water’d  eyen  from  whence  the  tears  do  fall, 

Do  feel  some  force,  or  else  they  would  be  dry ; 

The  wasted  flesh  of  colour  dead  can  try, 

And  sometime  tell  what  sweetness  is  in  gall : 

And  he  that  lust  to  see,  and  to  discern 
How  care  can  force  within  a wearied  mind. 

Come  he  to  me,  I am  that  place  assign’d : 

But  for  all  this,  no  force,  it  doth  no  harm ; 

The  wound,  alas,  hap  in  some  other  place. 

From  whence  no  tool  away  the  scar  can  raze. 
But  you,  that  of  such  like  have  had  your  part. 

Can  best  be  judge.  Wherefore,  my  friend  so  dear, 
I thought  it  good  my  state  should  now  appear 
To  you,  and  that  there  is  no  great  desert. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  17 

And  whereas  you,  in  weighty  matters  great, 

Of  fortune  saw  the  shadow  that  you  know, 

For  trifling  things  I now  am  stricken  so. 

That  though  I feel  my  heart  doth  wound  and  beat, 
I sit  alone,  save  on  the  second  day 
My  fever  comes,  with  whom  I spend  my  time 
In  burning  heat,  while  that  she  list  assign. 

And  who  hath  health  and  liberty  alway. 

Let  him  thank  God,  and  let  him  not  provoke. 
To  have  the  like  of  this  my  painful  stroke. 


THE  LOVER  LAMENTS  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS 
LOVE. 

The  pillar  perish’d  is  whereto  I leant. 

The  strongest  stay  of  mine  unquiet  mind ; 

The  like  of  it  no  man  again  can  find. 

From  east  to  west  still  seeking  though  he  went. 
To  mine  unhap.  For  hap  away  hath  rent 
Of  all  my  joy  the  very  bark  and  rind : 

And  I,  alas,  by  chance  am  thus  assign’d 
Daily  to  mourn,  till  death  do  it  relent. 

But  since  that  thus  it  is  by  destiny. 

What  can  I more  but  have  a woful  heart ; 

My  pen  in  plaint,  my  voice  in  careful  cry. 

My  mind  in  woe,  my  body  full  of  smart ; 

And  I myself,  myself  always  to  hate. 

Till  dreadful  death  do  ease  by  doleful  state. 

2 


18 


SIR  TH03IAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


A KENOUNCING  OF  LOYE. 

F ARE  WELL,  Love,  and  all  thy  laws  for  ever ; 
Thy  baited  hooks  shall  tangle  me  no  more : 
Senec,  and  Plato,  call  me  from  thy  lore. 

To  perfect  wealth,  my  wit  for  to  endeavour ; 

In  blind  error  when  I did  persever. 

Thy  sharp  repulse,  that  pricketh  aye  so  sore, 
Taught  me  in  trifles  that  I set  no  store ; 

But  scaped  forth  thence,  since,  liberty  is  lever : 
Therefore,  farewell,  go  trouble  younger  hearts, 
And  in  me  claim  no  more  authority : 

With  idle  youth  go  use  thy  property. 

And  thereon  spend  thy  many  brittle  darts : 
For,  hitherto  though  I have  lost  my  time. 
Me  list  no  longer  rotten  boughs  to  clime. 


THE  LOVER  DESPAIRING  TO  ATTAIN  UNTO 
HIS  lady’s  grace  relinquisheth  the  pursuit. 

Whoso  list  to  hunt?  I know  where  is  an  hind! 
But  as  for  me,  alas  ! I may  no  more. 

The  vain  travail  hath  wearied  me  so  sore  i 
I am  of  them  that  furthest  come  behind. 

Yet  may  I by  no  means  my  wearied  mind 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS.  19 

Draw  from  the  deer ; but  as  she  fleeth  afore 
Fainting  I follow ; I leave  off  therefore. 

Since  in  a net  I seek  to  hold  the  wind. 

Who  list  her  hunt,  I put  him  out  of  doubt 
As  well  as  I,  may  spend  his  time  in  vain ! 

And  graven  with  diamonds  in  letters  plain. 

There  is  written  her  fair  neck  round  about; 

‘ Noli  me  tangere ; for  Caesar’s  I am. 

And  wild  for  to  hold,  though  I seem  tame.’ 


THE  DESERTED  LOVER  CONSOLETH  HIMSELF 

WITH  KEMEMBRANCE  THAT  ALL  WOMEN  ARE  BY 
NATURE  FICKLE. 

Diyers  doth  use,  as  I have  heard  and  know, 
When  that  to  change  their  Ladies  do  begin 
To  mourn,  and  wail,  and  never  for  to  lynn ; 
Hoping  thereby  to  ’pease  their  painful  woe. 

And  some  there  be  that  when  it  chanceth  so 
That  women  change,  and  hate  where  love  hath  been, 
They  call  them  false,  and  think  with  words  to  win 
The  hearts  of  them  which  otherwhere  doth  grow. 
But  as  for  me,  though  that  by  chance  indeed 
Change  hath  outworn  the  favour  that  I had, 

I will  not  wail,  lament,  nor  yet  be  sad. 

Nor  call  her  false  that  falsely  did  me  feed ; 

But  let  it  pass,  and  think  it  is  of  kind 

That  often  change  doth  ©lease  a woman’s  mind. 


20 


sill  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


THAT  HOPE  TJNSATISEIED  IS  TO  THE  LOVER’S 
HEART  AS  A PROLONGED  DEATH. 

I ABIDE,  and  abide ; and  better  abide, 

After  the  old  proverb  the  happy  day. 

And  ever  my  Lady  to  me  doth  say, 

^ Let  me  alone,  and  I will  provide.’ 

I abide,  and  abide,  and  tarry  the  tide. 

And  with  abiding  speed  well  ye  may. 

Thus  do  I abide  I wot  alway, 

N’ other  obtaining,  nor  yet  denied. 

Aye  me  ! this  long  abiding 
Seemeth  to  me,  as  who  sayeth 
A prolonging  of  a dying  death. 

Or  a refusing  of  a desired  thing. 

Much  were  it  better  for  to  be  plain, 

Than  to  say,  ‘ Abide,’  and  yet  not  obtain. 


HE  PRAYETH  HIS  LADY  TO  BE  TRUE; 

FOR  NO  ONE  CAN  RESTRAIN  A WILLING  MIND. 

Though  I myself  be  bridled  of  my  mind. 
Returning  me  backward  by  force  express ; 

If  thou  seek  honour,  to  keep  thy  promess 
Who  may  thee  hold,  but  thou  thyself  unbind  ? 
Sigh  then  no  more,  since  no  way  man  may  lind 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  21 

Thy  virtue  to  let,  though  that  frowardness 

Of  Fortune  me  holdeth ; and  yet  as  I may  guess 

Though  other  be  present  thou  art  not  all  behind. 

Suffice  it  then  that  thou  be  ready  there 

At  all  hours ; still  under  the  defence 

Of  Time,  Truth,  and  Love  to  save  thee  from  offence. 

Crying  I burn  in  a lovely  desire, 

With  my  dear  Mistress  that  may  not  follow ; 
Whereby  mine  absence  turneth  me  to  sorrow. 

' — • — 

THE  DESERTED  LOYER 

WISHETH  THAT  HIS  RIVAL  MIGHT  EXPERIENCE  THE  SAME 
FORTUNE  HE  HIMSELF  HAD  TASTED. 

To  rail  or  jest,  ye  know  I use  it  not ; 

Though  that  such  cause  sometime  in  folks  I find. 
And  though  to  change  ye  list  to  set  your  mind, 

Love  it  who  list,  in  faith  I like  it  not. 

And  if  ye  were  to  me,  as  ye  are  not, 

I would  be  loth  to  see  you  so  unkind : 

But  since  your  fault  must  needs  be  so  by  kind ; 
Though  I hate  it  I pray  you  love  it  not. 

Things  of  great  weight  I never  thought  to  crave, 
This  is  but  small ; of  right  deny  it  not : 

Your  feigning  ways,  as  yet  forget  them  not. 

But  like  reward  let  other  Lovers  have ; 

That  is  to  say,  for  service  true  and  fast. 

Too  long  delays,  and  changing  at  the  last. 


22 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


EONDKAUX. 

EEQUEST  TO  CUPID  EOR  REVENGE  OF 
HIS  UNKIND  LOVE. 

Behold,  Love,  thy  power  how  she  despiseth ; 
My  grievous  pain  how  little  she  regardeth : 

The  solemn  oath,  whereof  she  takes  no  cure, 
Broken  she  hath,  and  yet,'  she  bideth  sure. 

Eight  at  her  ease,  and  little  thee  she  dreadeth : 

Weaponed  thou  art,  and  she  unarmed  sitteth: 
To  thee  disdainful,  all  her  life  she  leadeth ; 

To  me  spiteful,  without  just  cause  or  measure ; 
Behold,  Love,  how  proudly  she  triumpheth. 

I am  in  hold,  but  if  thee  pity  moveth. 

Go,  bend  thy  bow,  that  stony  hearts  breaketh, 
And  with  some  stroke  revenge  the  displeasure 
Of  thee,  and  him  that  sorrow  doth  endure. 

And,  as  his  lord,  thee  lowly  here  entreateth. 

— « — 

COMPLAINT  FOR  TRUE  LOVE  UNREQUITED. 

What  vaileth  truth,  or  by  it  to  take  pam? 

To  strive  by  steadfastness  for  to  attain 
How  to  be  just,  and  flee  from  doubleness  ? 

Since  all  alike,  where  ruleth  craftiness. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


23 


Ke warded  is  both  crafty,  false,  and  plain. 

Soonest  he  speeds  that  most  can  lie  and  feign : 
True  meaning  heart  is  had  in  high  disdain. 
Against  deceit  and  cloaked  doubleness. 

What  vaileth  truth,  or  perfect  steadfastness  ? 

Deceived  is  he  by  false  and  crafty  train. 

That  means  no  guile,  and  faithful  doth  remain 
Within  the  trap,  without  help  or  redress : 

But  for  to  love,  lo,  such  a stern  mistress, 

Where  cruelty  dwells,  alas,  it  were  in  vain. 

— • — 

THE  LOYER  SENDETH  SIGHS  TO  MOVE 
HIS  SUIT. 

Go,  burning  sighs,  unto  the  frozen  heart, 

To  break  the  ice,  which  pity’s  painful  dart 
Might  never  pierce  : and  if  that  mortal  prayer 
In  heaven  be  heard,  at  least  yet  I desire 
That  death  or  mercy  end  my  woful  smart. 

Take  with  thee  pain,  whereof  I have  my  part, 
And  eke  the  flame  from  which  I cannot  start, 
And  leave  me  then  in  rest,  I you  require. 

Go,  burning  sighs,  fulfill  that  I desire, 

I must  go  work,  I see,  by  craft  and  art. 

For  truth  and  faith  in  her  is  laid  apart : 

Alas,  I cannot  therefore  now  assail  her. 

With  pitiful  complaint  and  scalding  fire, 

That,  from  my  breast  deceivably  doth  start. 


24 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


THE  LOVER  SEEKING  FOR  HIS  LOST  HEART 

PKAYETH  THAT  IT  MAY  BE  KINDLY  ENTREATED 
BY  WHOMSOEVER  FOUND. 

Help  me  to  seek ! for  I lost  it  there  ; 

And  if  that  ye  have  found  it,  ye  that  be  here, 
And  seek  to  convey  it  secretly, 

Handle  it  soft,  and  treat  it  tenderly, 

Or  else  it  will  plain,  and  then  appair. 

But  pray  restore  it  mannerly, 

Since  that  I do  ask  it  thus  honestly. 

For  to  lese  it,  it  sitteth  me  near ; 

Help  me  to  seek ! 

Alas  ! and  is  there  no  remedy : 

But  have  I thus  lost  it  wilfully. 

I wis  it  was  a thing  all  too  dear 
To  be  bestowed,  and  wist  not  where. 

It  was  mine  heart ! I pray  you  heartily 
Help  me  to  seek. 


HE  DETERMINETH  TO  CEASE  TO  LOVE. 

For  to  love  her  for  her  looks  lovely. 

My  heart  was  set  in  thought  right  firmly. 
Trusting  by  truth  to  have  had  redress ; 

But  she  hath  made  another  promess. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS.  25 

And  hath  given  me  leave  full  honestly. 

Yet  do  I not  rejoice  it  greatly ; 

For  on  my  faith  I loved  too  surely, 

But  reason  will  that  I do  cesse, 

For  to  love  her. 

Since  (that  in  love  the  pains  been  deadly), 
Methink  it  best  that  readily 
I do  return  to  my  first  address ; 

For  at  this  time  too  great  is  the  press. 

And  perils  appear  too  abundantly. 

For  to  love  her. 


OF  THE  FOLLY  OF  LOVING  WHEN  THE 
SEASON  OF  LOVE  IS  PAST. 

Ye  old  mule  ! that  think  yourself  so  fair. 

Leave  off  with  craft  your  beauty  to  repair. 

For  it  is  time  without  any  fable ; 

No  man  setteth  now  by  riding  in  your  saddle ! 
Too  much  travail  so  do  your  train  appair 
Ye  old  mule  ! 

With  false  favour  though  you  deceive  th’ayes. 
Who  so  taste  you  shall  well  perceive  your  layes 
Savoureth  somewhat  of  a keeper’s  stable ; 

Ye  old  mule ! 

Ye  must  now  serve  to  market,  and  to  fair, 

AU  for  the  burthen,  for  panniers  a pair ; 


26  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

For  since  grey  hairs  ben  powder’d  in  your  sable, 
The  thing  ye  seek  for,  you  must  yourself  enable 
To  purchase  it  by  payment  and  by  prayer ; 

Ye  old  mule ! 


THE  ABUSED  LOVER  RESOLVETH  TO  FORGET 
HIS  UNKIND  MISTRESS. 

What  no,  perdie ! ye  may  be  sure  1 
Think  not  to  make  me  to  your  lure, 

With  words  and  chere  so  contrarying, 

Sweet  and  sower  countre-weighing. 

Too  much  it  were  still  to  endure. 

Truth  is  tried,  where  craft  is  in  ure. 

But  though  ye  have  had  my  heartes  cure, 

Trow  ye  I I dote  without  ending  ? 

What  no,  perdie ! 

Though  that  with  pain  I do  procure 
For  to  forget  that  once  was  pure  ; 

Within  my  heart  shall  still  that  thing 
Unstable,  unsure,  and  wavering. 

Be  in  my  mind  without  recure  ? 

What  no,  perdie ! 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


27 


THE  ABSENT  LOYEE  PERSUADETH  HIMSELF 

THAT  HIS  MISTRESS  WILL  NOT  HAVE  THE  POWER 
TO  FORSAKE  HIM. 

If  it  be  so  that  I forsake  thee, 

As  banished  from  thy  company ; 

Yet  my  heart,  my  mind,  and  my  affection, 
Shall  still  remain  in  thy  perfection, 

And  right  as  thou  list  so  order  me. 

But  some  would  say  in  their  opinion, 
Bevolted  is  thy  good  intention. 

Then  may  I well  blame  thy  cruelty, 

If  it  be  so. 

But  myself  I say  on  this  fashion  ; 

‘ I have  her  heart  in  my  possession. 

And  of  itself  cannot,  perdie  ! 

By  no  means  love,  an  heartless  body ! ’ 

And  on  my  faith  good  is  the  reason. 

If  it  be  so. 


28 


SIB  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


THE  KECURED  LOVER 

KENOUNCETH  HIS  FICKLE  MISTRESS  FOR  HER  NEW- 
FANGLENESS. 

Thou  hast  no  faith  of  him  that  hath  none, 
But  thou  must  love  him  needs  by  reason ; 
For  as  saith  a proverb  notable, 

Each  thing  seeketh  his  semblable, 

And  thou  hast  thine  of  thy  condition. 

Yet  is  it  not  the  thing  I pass  on, 

Nor  hot  nor  cold  is  mine  affection ! 

For  since  thine  heart  is  so  mutable, 

Thou  hast  no  faith. 

I thought  thee  true  without  exception. 

But  I perceive  I lacked  discretion ; 

To  fashion  faith  to  words  mutable. 

Thy  thought  is  too  light  and  variable 
To  change  so  oft  without  occasion. 

Thou  hast  no  faith ! 


29 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


ODES. 


THE  LOYER  COMPLAINETH  THE  UNKINDNESS 
OF  HIS  LOVE. 

My  lute,  awake,  perform  the  last 
Labour,  that  thou  and  I shall  waste ; 

And  end  that  I have  now  begun : 

And  when  this  song  is  sung  and  past, 

My  lute,  be  still,  for  I have  done. 

As  to  be  heard  where  ear  is  none ; 

As  lead  to  grave  in  marble  stone ; 

My  song  may  pierce  her  heart  as  soon. 

Should  we  then  sigh,  or  sing,  or  moan  ? 

No,  no,  my  lute,  for  I have  done. 

The  rocks  do  not  so  cruelly 
Hepulse  the  waves  continually, 

As  she  my  suit  and  affection : 

So  that  I am  past  remedy ; 

Whereby  my  lute  and  I have  done. 

Proud  of  the  spoil  that  thou  hast  got 
Of  simple  hearts  through  Love’s  shot. 

By  whom  unkind  thou  hast  them  won : 

Think  not  he  hath  his  bow  forgot. 

Although  my  lute  and  I have  done. 

Vengeance  shall  fall  on  thy  disdain. 

That  makest  but  game  on  earnest  pain ; 

Think  not  alone  under  the  sun 


30 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Unquit  to  cause  tli}’  lovers  plain ; 
Although  my  lute  and  I have  done. 

May  chance  thee  lie  withered  and  old 
In  winter  nights,  that  are  so  cold, 
Plaining  in  vain  unto  the  moon ; 

Thy  wishes  then  dare  not  be  told : 

Care  then  who  list,  for  I have  done. 

And  then  may  chance  thee  to  repent 
♦ The  time  that  thou  hast  lost  and  spent, 
To  cause  thy  lovers  sigh  and  swoon : 
Then  shalt  thou  know  beauty  but  lent, 
And  wish  and  want  as  I have  done. 

Now  cease,  my  lute,  this  is  the  last 
Labour,  that  thou  and  I shall  waste ; 
And  ended  is  that  we  begun ; 

Now  is  this  song  both  sung  and  past ; 
My  lute,  be  still,  for  I have  done. 


THE  LOVER  REJOICETH  THE  ENJOYING  OF 
HIS  LOVE. 

Once,  as  methought,  fortune  me  kiss’d. 

And  bade  me  ask  what  I thought  best. 

And  I should  have  it  as  me  list. 

Therewith  to  set  my  heart  in  rest. 

I asked  but  my  lady’s  heart. 

To  have  for  evermore  mine  own ; 

Then  at  an  end  were  all  my  smart ; 

Then  should  I need  no  more  to  moan. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


31 


Yet  for  all  that  a stdrmy  blast 
Had  overturn’d  this  goodly  nay ; 

And  fortune  seemed  at  the  last 
That  to  her  promise  she  said  nay. 

But  like  as  one  out  of  despair, 

To  sudden  hope  revived  I, 

Now  Fortune  sheweth  herself  so  fair, 

That  I content  me  wondrously. 

My  most  desire  my  hand  may  reach. 

My  will  is  alway  at  my  hand ; 

Me  need  not  long  for  to  beseech 
Her,  that  hath  power  me  to  command. 

What  earthly  thing  more  can  I crave  ? 
What  vfould  I wish  more  at  my  will  ? 
Nothing  on  earth  more  would  I have. 

Save  that  I have,  to  have  it  still. 

For  Fortune  now  hath  kept  her  promess, 
In  granting  me  my  most  desire : 

Of  my  sovereign  I have  redress. 

And  I content  me  with  my  hire. 


THE  LOVER  SHEWETH  HOW  HE  IS  FORSAKEN 
OF  SUCH  AS  HE  SOMETIME  ENJOYED. 

They  flee  from  me,  that  sometime  did  me  seek, 
With  naked  foot  stalking  within  my  chamber : 
Once  have  I seen  them  gentle,  tame,  and  meek. 
That  now  are  wild,  and  do  not  once  remember. 


32 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


That  sometime  they  have  put  themselves  in  danger 
To  take  bread  at  my  hand ; and  now  they  range 
Busily  seeking  in  continual  change. 

Thanked  be  Fortune,  it  hath  been  otherwise 
Twenty  times  better ; but  once  especial, 

In  thin  array,  after  a pleasant  guise. 

When  her  loose  gown  did  from  her  shoulders  fall. 
And  she  me  caught  in  her  arms  long  and  small. 
And  therewithal  so  sweetly  did  me  kiss. 

And  softly  said,  ^ Dear  heart,  how  like  you  this  ? ’ 
It  was  no  dream ; for  I lay  broad  awaking : 

But  all  is  turn’d  now,  through  my  gentleness, 

Into  a.biU^j^^n  of  for^akiR^^^., 

And  I have  leave  to  go  of  her  goodness ; 

And  she  also  to  use  new  fangleness. 

But  since  that  I unkindly  so  am  served : 

How  like  you  this,  what  hath  she  now  deserved  ? 

— # — 


THE  LOVER  TO  HIS  BED,  WITH  DESCRIBING 
OF  HIS  UNQUIET  STATE. 

The  restful  place,  renewer  of  my  smart, 

The  labours’  salve,  increasing  my  sorrow. 

The  body’s  ease,  and  troubler  of  my  heart. 
Quieter  of  mind,  mine  unquiet  foe, 

Forgetter  of  pain,  rememberer  of  my  woe. 

The  place  of  sleep,  wherein  I do  but  wake. 
Besprent  with  tears,  my  bed,  I thee  forsake. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT'S  POEMS. 


3a 


The  frosty  snows  may  not  redress  my  heat. 
Nor  heat  of  sun  abate  my  fervent  cold, 

I know  nothing  to  ease  my  pains  so  great ; 
Each  cure  causeth  increase  by  twenty  fold, 
Renewing  cares  upon  my  sorrows  old. 

Such  overthwart  effects  in  me  they  make : 
Besprent  with  tears,  my  bed  for  to  forsake. 

But  all  for  nought,  I find  no  better  ease 
In  bed  or  out : this  most  causeth  my  pain. 
Where  I do  seek  how  best  that  I may  please 
My  lost  labour,  alas,  is  all  in  vain : 

^ ]My  heart  once  set,  I cannot  it  refrain ; 

No  place  from  me  my  grief  away  can  take ; 
Wherefore  with  tears,  my  bed,  I thee  forsake. 


THE  LOVEK  COMPLAINETH  THAT  HIS  LOVE 
DOTH  NOT  PITY  HIM. 

Resound  my  voice,  ye  woods,  that  hear  me 
Both  hills  and  vales  causing  reflexion ; [plain ; 
And  rivers  eke,  record  ye  of  my  pain. 

Which  have  oft  forced  ye  by  compassion, 

As  judges,  lo,  to  hear  my  exclamation : 

Among  whom  ruth,  I find,  yet  doth  remain ; 
Where  I it  seek,  alas,  there  is  disdain. 

Oft,  ye  rivers,  to  hear  my  woful  sound 
Have  stopt  your  course : and  plainly  to  express 
Many  a tear  by  moisture  of  the  ground, 

3 


34  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

The  earth  hath  wept  to  hear  mj  heaviness : 
Which  causeless  I endure  without  redress. 

The  hugy  oaks  have  roared  in  the  wind : 

Each  thing,  methought,  complaining  in  their  kind. 

Why  then,  alas,  doth  not  she  on  me  rue  ? 

Or  is  her  heart  so  hard  that  no  pity 
May  in  it  sink,  my  joy  for  to  renew  ? 

O stony  heart,  who  hath  thus  framed  thee 
So  cruel ; that  art  cloaked  with  beauty ; 

That  from  thee  may  no  grace  to  me  proceed, 

But  as  reward,  death  for  to  be  my  meed  ? 


THE  LOVER  COMPLAINETH  HIMSELE 
EORSAKEN. 

Where  shall  I have  at  mine  own  will, 
Tears  to  complain  ? where  shall  I fet 
Such  sighs,  that  I may  sigh  my  fill. 

And  then  again  my  plaints  repeat  ? 

For,  though  my  plaint  shall  have  none  end. 
My  tears  cannot  suffice  my  woe : 

To  moan  my  harm  have  I no  friend ; 

For  fortune’s  friend  is  mishap’s  foe. 
Comfort,  God  wot,  else  have  I none. 

But  in  the  wind  to  waste  my  wordes ; 
Nought  moveth  you  my  deadly  moan. 

But  still  you  turn  it  into  hordes. 

I speak  not  now,  to  move  your  heart. 

That  you  should  rue  upon  my  pain ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


35 


The  sentence  given  may  not  revert : 

I know  such  labour  were  but  vain. 

But  since  that  I for  you,  my  dear, 

Have  lost  that  thing,  that  was  my  best ; 

A right  small  loss  it  must  appear 
To  lose  these  words,  and  all  the  rest. 

But  though  they  sparkle  in  the  wind. 

Yet  shall  they  shew  your  falsed  faith ; 
Which  is  returned  to  his  kind ; 

For  like  to  like,  the  proverb  saith. 

F ortune  and  you  did  me  avance ; 
Methought  I swam,  and  could  not  drown : 
Happiest  of  all ; but  my  mischance 
Did  lift  me  up,  to  throw  me  down. 

And  you  with  her,  of  cruelness 
Did  set  your  foot  upon  my  neck. 

Me,  and  my  welfare,  to  oppress ; 

Without  offence  your  heart  to  wreck. 
Where  are  your  pleasant  words,  alas  ? 
Where  is  your  faith  ? your  steadfastness  ? 
There  is  no  more  but  all  doth  pass, 

And  I am  left  all  comfortless. 

But  since  so  much  it  doth  you  grieve, 

And  also  me  my  wretched  life. 

Have  here  my  truth : nought  shall  relieve, 
But  death  alone,  my  wretched  strife. 
Therefore  farewell,  my  life,  my  death ; 

My  gain,  my  loss,  my  salve,  my  sore ; 
Farewell  also,  with  you  my  breath ; 

For  I am  gone  for  evermore. 


SG 


SIR  THOMAS  TV^YATT’s  POEMS. 


A EEXOUNCING  OF  HAEDLY  ESCAPED  LOYE. 

Farewell  the  heart  of  cruelty  ; 

Though  that  with  pain  my  liberty 
Dear  have  I bought,  and  wofully  ^ 

Finish’d  my  fearful  tragedy. 

Of  force  I must  forsake  such  pleasure ; 

A good  cause  just,  since  I endure 
Thereby  my  woe,  which  be  ye  sure, 

Shall  therewith  go  me  to  recure. 

I fare  as  one  escap’d  that  tleeth. 

Glad  he  is  gone,  and  yet  still  feareth 
Spied  to  be  caught,  and  so  dreadeth 
That  he  for  nought  his  pain  leseth. 

In  joyful  pain,  rejoice  my  heart. 

Thus  to  sustain  of  each  a part. 

Let  not  this  song  from  thee  astart. 

Welcome  among  my  joleasant  smart. 


THE  LOYEE  TAUGHT,  MISTEUSTETH 
ALLUEEMENTS. 

It  may  be  good,  like  it  who  list ; 

Lut  I do  doubt : who  can  me  blame  ? 

F or  oft  assured,  yet  have  I mist ; 

And  now  again  I fear  the  same. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


37 


The  words,  that  from  your  mouth  last  came, 
Of  sudden  change,  make  me  aghast ; 

For  dread  to  fall,  I stand  not  fast, 

Alas,  I tread  an  endless  maze. 

That  seek  t’  accord  two  contraries ; 

And  hope  thus  still,  and  nothmg  hase, 
Imprisoned  in  liberties : 

As  one  unheard,  and  still  that  cries ; 

Always  thirsty,  and  nought  doth  taste ; 

For  dread  to  fall,  I stand  not  fast. 

Assured,  I doubt  I be  not  sure ; 

Should  I then  trust  unto  such  surety ; 

That  oft  hath  put  the  proof  in  ure, 

And  never  yet  have  found  it  trusty  ? 

Nay,  sir,  in  faith,  it  were  great  folly : 

And  yet  my  life  thus  do  I waste  ; 

For  dread  to  fall,  I stand  not  fast. 


THE  LOYER  REJOICETH  AGAINST  EORTUNE 

THAT  BY  HINDERING  HIS  SUIT  HAD  HAmLY 
MADE  HIM  FORSAKE  HIS  FOLLY. 

In  faith  I wot  not  what  to  say. 

Thy  chances  been  so  wonderous. 

Thou  Fortune,  with  thy  divers  play 
That  makest  the  joyful  dolorous. 

And  eke  the  same  right  joyous. 

Yet  though  thy  chain  hath  me  enwrapt, 

Spite  of  thy  hap,  hap  hath  well  hapt. 


88 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Though  thou  has  set  me  for  a wonder. 
And  seekest  by  change  to  do  me  pain : 
Men’s  minds  yet  mayst  thou  not  so  order ; 
For  honesty,  if  it  remain. 

Shall  shine  for  all  thy  cloudy  rain. 

In  vain  thou  seekest  to  have  me  trapped ; 
Spite  of  thy  hap,  hap  hath  well  hapt. 

In  hindering  me,  me  didst  thou  further ; 
And  made  a gap,  where  was  a stile : 

Cruel  wills  been  oft  put  under ; 

Weening  to  lour,  then  didst  thou  smile : 
Lord,  how  thyself  thou  didst  beguile. 

That  in  thy  cares  wouldst  me  have  wrapt  ? 
But  spite  of  hap,  hap  hath  well  hapt. 


THE  LOVER^S  SORROWFUL  STATE 

MAKETH  HIM  WRITE  SORROWFUL  SONGS,  BUT  SUCH  HIS 
LOVE  MAY  CHANGE  THE  SAME. 

Marvel  no  more  although 
The  songs,  I sing,  do  moan ; 

For  other  life  than  woe, 

I never  proved  none. 

And  in  my  heart  also 
Is  graven  with  letters  deep, 

A thousand  sighs  and  mo, 

A flood  of  tears  to  weep. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


39' 


How  may  a man  in  smart 
Find  matter  to  rejoice  ? 

How  may  a mourning  heart 
Set  forth  a pleasant  voice  ? 

Play,  who  so  can,  that  part. 
Needs  must  in  me  appear 
How  fortune  overthwart 
Doth  cause  my  mourning  cheer. 

Perdie  there  is  no  man, 

If  he  saw  never  sight, 

That  perfectly  tell  can 
The  nature  of  the  light. 

Alas,  how  should  I than, 

That  never  taste  but  sour, 

But  do  as  I began. 

Continually  to  lour. 

But  yet  perchance  some  chance 
May  chance  to  change  my  tune. 
And  when  such  chance  doth  chance. 
Then  shall  I thank  fortune. 

And  if  I have  such  chance. 
Perchance  ere  it  be  long, 

For  such  a pleasant  chance, 

To  sing  some  pleasant  song. 


40 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


THE  LOVER  SENDETH  HIS  COMPLAINTS  AND 
TEARS  TO  SUE  EOR  GRACE. 

Pass  forth,  mj  wonted  cries, 

Those  cruel  ears  to  pierce, 

Which  in  most  hateful  wise 
Do  still  my  plaints  reverse. 

Do  you,  my  tears,  also 
So  wet  her  barren  heart, 

That  pity  there  may  grow, 

And  cruelty  depart. 

For  though  hard  rocks  among 
She  seems  to  have  been  bred. 

And  of  the  tiger  long 
Been  nourished  and  fed ; 

Yet  shall  not  nature  change. 

If  pity  once  win  place ; 

Whom  as  unknown  and  strange 
She  now  away  doth  chase. 

And  as  the  water  soft. 

Without  forcing  or  strength. 

Where  that  it  falleth  oft 

Hard  stones  doth  pierce  at  length : 

So  in  her  stony  heart 
My  plaints  at  last  shall  grave. 

And,  rigour  set  apart. 

Win  grant  of  that  I crave. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATlfS  POEMS.  41 

Wherefore,  my  plaints,  present 
Still  so  to  her  my  suit. 

As  ye,  through  her  assent. 

May  bring  to  me  some  fruit. 

And  as  she  shall  me  prove, 

So  bid  her  me  regard ; 

And  render  love  for  love ; 

Which  is  a just  reward. 


THE  LOVER’S  CASE  CANNOT  BE  HIDDEN 
HOWEVER  HE  DISSEMBLE. 

Yoijr  looks  so  often  cast, 

Your  eyes  so  friendly  roll’d, 

Your  sight  fixed  so  fast, 

Always  one  to  behold ; 

Though  hide  it  fain  ye  would. 

It  plainly  doth  declare. 

Who  hath  your  heart  in  hold. 

And  where  good  will  ye  bear. 

Fain  would  ye  find  a cloak 
Your  brenning  fire  to  hide. 

Yet  both  the  flame  and  smoke 
Breaks  out  on  every  side. 

Ye  cannot  love  so  guide. 

That  it  no  issue  win : 

Abroad  needs  must  it  glide. 

That  brens  so  hot  within. 


42 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


For  cause  yourself  do  wink. 
Ye  judge  all  other  blind ; 

And  secret  it  you  think, 

Which  every  man  doth  find. 

In  waste  oft  spend  ye  wind. 
Yourself  in  love  to  quit ; 

For  agues  of  that  kind 
Will  shew  who  hath  the  fit. 

Your  sighs  you  fetch  from  far. 
And  all  to  wry  your  woe ; 

Yet  are  ye  ne’er  the  narre : 

Men  are  not  blinded  so. 

Deeply  oft  swear  ye  no ; 

But  all  those  oaths  are  vain : 

So  well  your  eye  doth  shew. 
Who  puts  your  heart  to  pain. 

Think  not  therefore  to  hide. 
That  still  itself  betrays : 

Nor  seek  means  to  provide 
To  dark  the  sunny  days. 

Forget  those  wonted  ways ; 
Leave  off  such  frowning  cheer ; 
There  will  be  found  no  stays. 

To  stop  a thing  so  clear. 


✓ 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


43 


THE  LOVER  PRAYETH  NOT  TO  BE  DISDAINED, 

REFUSED,  MISTRUSTED,  T^OR  FORSAKEN. 

Disdain  me  not  without  desert ; 

Nor  leave  me  not  so  suddenly ; 

Since  well  ye  wot,  that  in  my  heart 
I mean  ye  not  but  honestly. 

Refuse  me  not  without  cause  why ; 

For  think  me  not  to  be  unjust ; 

Since  that  by  lot  of  fantasy, 

This  careful  knot  needs  knit  I must. 

Mistimst  me  not,  though  some  there  be, 

That  fain  would  spot  my  steadfastness  : 

Believe  them  not,  since  that  ye  see. 

The  proof  is  not,  as  they  express. 

Forsake  me  not,  till  I deserve ; 

Nor  hate  me  not,  till  I offend ; 

Destroy  me  not,  till  that  I swerve : 

But  since  ye  know  what  I intend. 

Disdain  me  not,  that  am  your  own ; 

Refuse  me  not,  that  am  so  true ; 

Mistrust  me  not,  till  all  be  known ; 

Forsake  me  not  now  for  no  new. 


44 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


THE  LOYER  LAMENTETH  HIS  ESTATE  WITH 
SUIT  FOR  GRACE. 

F OR  want  of  will  in  woe  I plain. 

Under  colour  of  soberness  ; 

Renewing  with  my  suit  my  pain, 

My  wanliope  with  your  steadfastness. 

Awake  therefore  of  gentleness ; 

Regard,  at  length,  I you  require. 

My  swelting  pains  of  my  desire. 

Betimes  who  giveth  willingly, 

Redoubled  thanks  aye  doth  deserve ; 

And  I that  sue  unfeignedly. 

In  fruitless  hope,  alas ! do  sterve. 

How  great  my  cause  is  for  to  swerve. 

And  yet  how  steadfast  is  my  suit, 

Lo,  here  ye  see : where  is  the  fruit  ? 

As  hound  that  hath  his  keeper  lost. 

Seek  I your  presence  to  obtain ; 

In  which  my  heart  delighteth  most. 

And  shall  delight  though  I be  slain. 

You  may  release  my  band  of  pain  ; 

Loose  then  the  care  that  makes  me  cry 
For  want  of  help,  or  else  I die. 

I die  though  not  incontinent ; 

By  process,  yet  consumingly. 

As  waste  of  fire  which  doth  relent : 


SIK  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


45 


If  you  as  wilful  will  deny. 

Wherefore  cease  of  such  cruelty, 

And  take  me  wholly  in  your  grace ; 
Yfhich  lacketh  will  to  change  his  place. 


THE  LOVER  WAILETH  HIS  CHANGED  JOYS. 

If  every  man  might  him  avaunt 
Of  fortune’s  friendly  cheer ; 

It  was  myself,  I must  it  grant. 

For  I have  bought  it  dear  : 

And  dearly  have  I held  also 
The  glory  of  her  name. 

In  yielding  her  such  tribute,  lo, 

As  did  set  forth  her  fame. 

Sometime  I stood  so  in  her  grace, 

That  as  I would  require. 

Each  joy  I thought  did  me  embrace, 

That  furthered  my  desire : 

And  all  those  pleasures,  lo,  had  I, 

That  fancy  might  support ; 

And  nothing  she  did  me  deny 
That  was  unto  my  comfort. 

I had,  what  would  you  more,  perdie  ? 
Each  grace  that  I did  crave ; 

Thus  Fortune’s  will  was  unto  me 
All  thing  that  I would  have : 


/ 


46  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt's  poems. 

But  all  too  rathe,  alas  the  while, 

She  built  on  such  a ground : 

In  little  space,  too  great  a guile 
' In  her  now  have  I found. 

For  she  hath  turned  so  her  wheel, 

That  I,  unhappy  man. 

May  wail  the  time  that  I did  feel 
Wherewith  she  fed  me  than : 

For  broken  now  are  her  behests, 

And  pleasant  looks  she  gave. 

And  therefore  now  all  my  requests 
From  peril  cannot  save. 

Yet  would  I well  it  might  appear 
To  her  my  chief  regard ; 

Though  my  deserts  have  been  too  dear 
To  merit  such  reward : 

Since  Fortune's  will  is  now  so  bent 
To  plague  me  thus,  poor  man, 

I must  myself  therewith  content. 

And  bear  it  as  I can. 

— ♦ ■ 

TO  HIS  LOVE  THAT  HATH  GIVEN  HBI 
ANSWER  OF  REFUSAL. 

The  answer  that  ye  made  to  me,  my  dear. 
When  I did  sue  for  my  poor  heart’s  redress. 
Hath  so  appall'd  my  countenance  and  my  cheer. 
That  in  this  case  I am  all  comfortless ; 

Since  I of  blame  no  cause  can  well  express. 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATT’s  POEMS. 


47 


I have  no  wrong,  where  I can  claim  no  right, 
Nought  ta’en  me  fro,  where  I have  nothing  had, 

Yet  of  my  woe  I cannot  so  be  quite ; 

Namely,  since  that  another  may  be  glad 
'VYith  that,  that  thus  in  sorrow  makes  me  sad. 

Yet  none  can  claim,  I say,  by  former  grant, 

That  knoweth  not  of  any  grant  at  all ; 

And  by  desert,  I dare  well  make  avaunt 
Of  faithful  will ; there  is  nowhere  that  shall 
Bear  you  more  truth,  more  ready  at  your  call. 

Now  good  then,  call  again  that  bitter  word. 

That  touch’d  your  friend  so  near  with  pangs  of  pain ; 
And  say,  my  dear,  that  it  was  said  in  bord : 

Late,  or  too  soon,  let  it  not  rule  the  gain. 

Wherewith  free  will  doth  true  desert  retain. 


THE  LOYER  DESCRIBETH  HIS  BEING  TAKEN 
WITH  SIGHT  OF  HIS  LOYE. 

Unwarily  so  was  never  no  man  caught. 

With  steadfast  look  upon  a goodly  face. 

As  I of  late  : for  suddenly,  methought. 

My  heart  was  torn  out  of  his  place. 

Though  mine  eye  the  stroke  from  hers  did  slide, 
And  down  directly  to  my  heart  it  ran ; 

In  help  whereof  the  blood  did  glide, 

And  left  my  face  both  pale  and  wan. 


48  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

Then  was  I like  a man  for  woe  amazed, 

Or  like  the  fowl  that  fleeth  into  the  fire ; 

For  while  that  I upon  her  beauty  gazed, 

The  more  I burn’d  in  my  desire. 

Anon  the  blood  start  in  my  face  again, 

Inflam’d  with  heat,  that  it  had  at  my  heart. 

And  brought  therewith,  throughout  in  every  vein, 
A quaking  heat  with  pleasant  smart. 

Then  was  I like  the  straw,  when  that  the  flame 
Is  driven  therein  by  force  and  rage  of  wind ; 

I cannot  tell,  alas,  what  I shall  blame. 

Nor  what  to  seek,  nor  what  to  find. 

But  well  I wot  the  grief  doth  hold  me  sore 
In  heat  and  cold,  betwixt  both  hope  and  dread. 
That,  but  her  help  to  health  doth  me  restore, 

This  restless  life  I may  not  lead. 


THE  LOYEB  EXCUSETH  HBI  OE  WORDS, 

WHEREWITH  HE  WAS  UNJUSTLY  CHARGED. 

Perdie  I said  it  not ; 

Nor  never  thought  to  do : 

As  well  as  I,  ye  wot, 

I have  no  power  thereto. 

And  if  I did,  the  lot. 

That  first  did  me  enchain. 

May  never  slake  the  knot. 

But  straight  it  to  my  pain ! 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


49 


And  if  I did  each  thing, 

That  may  do  harm  or  woe, 
Continually  may  wring 
My  heart  where  so  I go ! 

Report  may  always  ring 
Of  shame  on  me  for  aye, 

If  in  my  heart  did  spring 
The  words  that  you  do  say. 

And  if  I did,  each  star, 

That  is  in  heaven  above, 

May  frown  on  me  to  mar 
The  hope  I have  in  love ! 

And  if  I did,  such  war 
As  they  brought  unto  Troy, 

Bring  all  my  life  as  far 
From  all  his  lust  and  joy ! 

And  if  I did  so  say. 

The  beauty  that  me  bound. 
Increase  from  day  to  day 
More  cruel  to  my  wound ! 

With  all  the  moan  that  may. 

To  plaint  may  turn  my  song ; 

My  hfe  may  soon  decay, 

Without  redress,  by  wrong ! 

If  I be  clear  from  thought. 
Why  do  you  then  complain  ? 
Then  is  this  thing  but  sought 
To  turn  my  heart  to  pain. 

Then  this  that  you  have  wrought, 
You  must  it  now  redress ; 

4 


SIR  THOMAS  AVYATT’s  POEMS. 


Of  right  therefore  you  ought 
Such  rigour  to  repress. 

And  as  I have  deserved, 
So  grant  me  now  my  hire ; 
You  know  I never  swerved, 
You  never  found  me  liar. 
For  Rachel  have  I served, 
F or  Leah  cared  I never ; 
And  her  I have  reserved 
Within  my  heart  for  ever. 


THE  LOVER  CURSETII  THE  TIME  WHEN 
FIRST  HE  FELL  IN  LOVE. 

When  first  mine  eyes  did  view  and  mark 
Thy  fair  beauty  to  behold  ; 

And  when  my  ears  listened  to  hark 
The  pleasant  words,  that  thou  me  told ; 

I would  as  then  I had  been  free 
From  ears  to  hear,  and  eyes  to  see. 

And  when  my  lips  gan  first  to  move. 
Whereby  my  heart  to  thee  was  known. 

And  when  my  tongue  did  talk  of  love 
To  thee  that  hast  true  love  down  thrown ; 

I would  my  lips  and  tongue  also 
Had  then  been  dumb,  no  deal  to  go. 

And  when  my  hands  have  handled  ought 
That  thee  hath  kept  in  memory. 


SIR  TnoMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


51 


And  when  my  feet  have  gone  and  sought 
To  find  and  get  thee  company, 

I would,  each  hand  a foot  had  been, 
And  I each  foot  a hand  had  seen. 

And  when  in  mind  I did  consent, 

To  follow  this  my  fancy’s  will. 

And  when  my  heart  did  first  relent 
To  taste  such  bait,  my  life  to  spill, 

I would  my  heart  had  been  as  thine. 
Or  else  thy  heart  had  been  as  mine. 


THE  LOVEE  DETEEMINETH  TO  SEEYE 
EAITHFULLY. 

Since  Love  will  needs  that  I shall  love. 
Of  very  force  I must  agree : 

And  since  no  chance  may  it  remove. 

In  wealth  and  in  adversity, 

I shall  alway  myself  apply 
To  serve  and  suffer  patiently. 

Though  for  good  will  I find  but  hate. 
And  cruelly  my  life  to  waste. 

And  though  that  still  a wretched  state 
Should  pine  my  days  unto  the  last. 

Yet  I profess  it  willingly 
To  serve  and  suffer  patiently. 

For  since  my  heart  is  bound  to  serve, 
And  I not  ruler  of  mine  own, 


library 

UNIVERSITY  OF  llimm 


52 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


Whatso  befall,  till  that  I sterve 
Bj  proof  full  well  it  shall  be  known, 
That  I shall  still  myself  apply 
To  serve  and  suffer  patiently. 

Yea  though  my  grief  find  no  redress, 
But  still  increase  before  mine  eyes. 
Though  my  reward  be  cruelness, 

With  all  the  harm  hap  can  devise. 

Yet  I profess  it  willingly 
To  serve  and  suffer  patiently. 

Yea  though  Fortune  her  pleasant  face 
Should  shew,  to  set  me  up  aloft. 

And  straight  my  wealth  for  to  deface. 
Should  writhe  away,  as  she  doth  oft. 

Yet  would  I still  myself  apply 
To  serve  and  suffer  patiently.' 

There  is  no  grief,  no  smart,  no  woe. 
That  yet  I feel,  or  after  shall. 

That  from  this  mind  may  make  me  go ; 
And  whatsoever  me  befall, 

I do  profess  it  willingly 
To  serve  and  suffer  patiently. 


TO  HIS  VKKINB  LOYE. 

What  rage  is  this?  what  furor?  of  what  kind? 
What  power?  what  plague  doth  weary  thus  my 
Within  my  bones  to  rankle  is  assigned,  [mind  ? 
What  poison  pleasant  sweet  ? 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


53 


Lo,  see,  mine  eyes  flow  with  continual  tears, 

The  body  still  away  sleepless  it  wears, 

My  food  nothing  my  fainting  strength  repairs, 

Nor  doth  my  limbs  sustain. 

In  deep  wide  wound,  the  deadly  stroke  doth  turn 
To  cureless  scar  that  never  shall  return ; 

Go  to,  triumph,  rejoice  thy  goodly  turn, 

Thy  friend  thou  dost  oppress. 

Oppress  thou  dost,  and  hast  of  him  no  cure. 

Nor  yet  my  plaint  no  pity  can  procure. 

Fierce  tiger  fell,  hard  rock  without  recure. 

Cruel  rebel  to  love. 

Once  may  thou  love,  never  beloved  again. 

So  love  thou  still,  and  not  thy  love  obtain. 

So  wrathful  love,  with  spites  of  just  disdain. 

May  threat  thy  cruel  heart. 

— • — 

THE  LOVER  COMPLAINETH  HIS  ESTATE. 

I SEE,  that  chance  hath  chosen  me 
Thus  secretly  to  live  in  pain. 

And  to  another  given  the  fee. 

Of  all  my  loss  to  have  the  gain : 

By  chance  assign’d  thus  do  I serve. 

And  other  have  that  I deserve. 

Unto  myself  sometime  alone 
I do  lament  my  woful  case ; 

But  what  availeth  me  to  moan 
Since  truth  and  pity  hath  no  place 


54  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

In  them,  to  whom  I sue  and  serve  ? 

And  other  have  that  I deserve. 

To  seek  by  mean  to  change  this  mind, 
Alas,  I prove,  it  will  not  be ; 

For  in  my  heart  I cannot  find 
Once  to  refrain,  but  still  agree. 

As  bound  by  force,  alway  to  serve, 

And  other  have  that  I deserve. 

Such  is  the  fortune  that  I have, 

To  love  them  most  that  love  me  lest ; 
And  to  my  pain  to  seek,  and  crave 
The  thing  that  other  have  possest : 

So  thus  in  vain  alway  I serve. 

And  other  have  that  I deserve. 

And  till  I may  appease  the  heat. 

If  that  my  hap  will  hap  so  well. 

To  wail  my  woe  my  heart  shall  frete. 
Whose  pensive  pain  my  tongue  can  tell ; 
Yet  thus  unhappy  must  I serve. 

And  other  have  that  I deserve. 


WHETHER  LIBERTY  BY  LOSS  OF  LIFE, 

OR  LIFE  IN  PRISON  AND  THRALDOM  BE  TO 
BE  PREFERRED. 

Like  as  the  bird  within  the  cage  inclosed, 

The  door  unsparred,  her  foe  the  hawk  without, 
’Twixt  death  and  prison  jDiteously  oppressed. 
Whether  for  to  choose  standeth  in  doubt ; 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  65> 

Lo,  so  do  I,  wliich  seek  to  bring  about, 

Which  should  be  best  by  determination, 

By  loss  of  life  liberty,  or  life  by  prison. 

O mischief  by  mischief  to  be  redi*essed. 

Where  pain  is  best,  there  lieth  but  little  pleasure^ 

By  short  death  better  to  be  delivered. 

Than  bide  in  painful  life,  thraldom,  and  dolour : 
Small  is  the  pleasure,  where  much  pain  we  suffer. 
Bather  therefore  to  choose  me  thinketh  wisdom. 

By  loss  of  life  liberty,  than  life  by  prison. 

And  yet  methinks,  although  I live  and  suffer, 

I do  but  wait  a time  and  fortune’s  chance ; 

Oft  many  things  do  happen  in  one  hour ; 

That  which  oppress’d  me  now  may  me  advance. 

In  time  is  trust,  which  by  death’s  grievance 
Is  wholly  lost.  Then  were  it  not  reason 
By  death  to  choose  liberty,  and  not  life  by  prison. 
But  death  were  deliverance,  where  life  lengths 
pain. 

Of  these  two  ills  let  see  now  choose  the  best. 

This  bird  to  deliver  that  here  doth  plain : 

What  say,  ye  lovers  ? which  shall  be  the  best  ? 

In  cage  thraldom,  or  by  the  hawk  opprest : 

And  which  to  choose  make  plain  conclusion. 

By  loss  of  life  liberty,  or  life  by  prison  ? 


56 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poe^is. 


HE  EULETH  NOT  THOUGH  HE  EEIGN  OVER 

REALMS,  THAT  IS  SUBJECT  TO  IIIS  OWN  LUSTS. 

If  thou  wilt  mighty  be,  flee  from  the  rage 
Of  cruel  will ; and  see  thou  keep  thee  free 
F rom  the  foul  yoke  of  sensual  bondage : 

For  though  thine  empire  stretch  to  Indian  sea, 

And  for  thy  fear  trembleth  the  farthest  Thule, 

If  thy  desire  have  over  thee  the  power. 

Subject  then  art  thou  and  no  governor. 

If  to  be  noble  and  high  thy  mind  be  moved, 
Consider  well  thy  ground  and  thy  beginning ; 

For  he  that  hath  each  star  in  heaven  flxed. 

And  gives  the  moon  her  horns,  and  her  eclipsing. 
Alike  hath  made  the  noble  in  his  working ; 

So  that  wretched  no  way  may  thou  be. 

Except  foul  lust  and  vice  do  conquer  thee. 

All  were  it  so  thou  had  a flood  of  gold 
Unto  thy  thirst,  yet  should  it  not  suffice ; 

And  though  with  Indian  stones  a thousand  fold. 
More  precious  than  can  thyself  devise, 

Ycharged  were  thy  back ; thy  covetise. 

And  busy  biting  yet  should  never  let 
Thy  wretched  life,  ne  do  thy  death  profet. 


SIR  THOMAS  ArrATx’i  ROEMS. 


57 


THE  EAITHEUL  LOVER 

GIVETH  TO  HIS  3IISTRESS  HIS  HEART  AS  HIS  BEST  AND 
ONLY  TREASURE. 

^ / X” 

To  seek  each  where  where  man  doth  live, 
The  sea,  the  land,  the  rock,  the  dive, 

!Frarice,  Spain, .and  Inde,  and  every  where; 
Is  none  a greater  gift  to  give. 

Less  set  by  oft,  and  is  so  lief  and  dear. 

Dare  I well  say,  than  that  I give  to  year. 

I cannot  give  broaches  nor  rings. 

These  goldsmith  work,  and  goodly  things, 
Pierrie,  nor  pearl,  orient  and  clear ; 

But  for  all  that  can  no  man  bring 
Lieffer  jewel  unto  his  lady  dear. 

Dare  I well  say,  than  that  I give  to  year. 

Nor  I seek  not  to  fetch  it  far ; 

Worse  is  it  not  tlio’  it  be  narr. 

And  as  it  is,  it  doth  appear 
Uncounterfeit  mistrust  to  bar. 

It  is  both  whole,  and  pure,  withouten  peer. 
Dare  I will  say,  the  gift  I give  to  year. 

To  thee  therefore  the  same  retain ; 

The  like  of  thee  to  have  again 
France  would  I give,  if  mine  it  were. 

Is  none  alive  in  whom  doth  reign 
Lesser  disdain  ; freely  therefore  lo  ! here 
Dare  I well  give,  I say,  my  heart  to  year. 


58 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


A DESCEIPTION  OF  THE  SORROW  OF  TRUE 
LOVERS'  PARTING. 

There  was  never  nothing  more  me  pain’d, 
Nor  more  my  pity  mov’d. 

As  when  my  sweetheart  her  complain’d. 

That  ever  she  me  lov’d. 

Alas  ! the  while  ! 

With  piteous  look  she  said,  and  sight, 

^ Alas ! what  aileth  me  ? 

To  love,  and  set  my  wealth  so  light, 

On  him  that  loveth  not  me ; 

Alas  ! the  while  ! 

^ Was  I not  well  void  of  all  pain. 

When  that  nothing  me  griev’d  ? 

And  now  with  sorrows  I must  complain. 

And  cannot  be  reliev’d, 

Alas  1 the  while  ! 

^ My  restful  nights,  and  joyful  days. 

Since  I began  to  love 

Be  take  from  me  ; all  thing  decays. 

Yet  can  I not  remove, 

Alas  ! the  while  ! ’ 

She  wept  and  wrung  her  hands  withal. 

The  tears  fell  in  my  neck : 

She  turned  her  face,  and  let  it  fall ; 

And  scarce  therewith  could  speak : 

Alas  ! the  while  ! 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


59 


Her  pains  tormented  me  so  sore 
That  comfort  had  I none. 

But  cursed  my  fortune  more  and  more 
To  see  her  sob  and  groan, 

Alas ! the  while  ! 


■ 

THE  NEGLECTED  LOYEH 

CALLETII  ON  HIS  STONY  HEARTED  BIISTEESS  TO  HEAR  HIM 
COMPLAIN  ERE  THAT  HE  DIE. 

Heaven,  and  earth,  and  all  that  hear  me  plain 
Do  well  perceive  what  care  doth  make  me  cry ; 
Save  you  alone,  to  whom  I cry  in  vain ; 

Mercy,  Madam,  alas  ! I die,  I die  ! 

If  that  you  sleep,  I humbly  you  require 
Forbear  awhile,  and  let  your  rigour  slake. 

Since  that  by  you  I burn  thus  in  this  fire ; 

To  hear  my  plaint,  dear  heart,  awake  ! awake  ! 

Since  that  so  oft  ye  have  made  me  to  wake 
In  plaint,  and  tears,  and  in  right  piteous  case ; 
Displease  you  not  if  force  do  now  me  make 
To  break  your  sleep,  crying  alas  ! alas  ! 

It  is  the  last  trouble  that  ye  shall  have 
Of  me.  Madam,  to  hear  my  last  complaint ; 

Pity  at  least  your  poor  unhappy  slave, 

F or  in  despair,  alas  ! I faint,  I faint. 

It  is  not  now,  but  long  and  long  ago 
I have  you  served,  as  to  my  power  and  might 


60  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

As  faithfully  as  any  man  might  do ; 

Claiming  of  you  nothing  of  right,  of  right. 

Save  of  your  grace  only  to  stay  my  life 
That  fleeth  as  fast  as  cloud  before  the  wind ; 

For  since  that  first  I entered  in  this  strife, 

An  inward  death  hath  fret  my  mind,  my  mind. 

If  I had  suffered  this  to  you  unware 
Mine  were  the  fault,  and  you  nothing  to  blame ; 
But  since  you  know  my  woe  and  all  my  care, 
Why  do  I die,  alas  ! for  shame  ! for  shame  ! 

I know  right  well  my  face,  my  look,  my  tears, 
Mine  eyes,  my  words,  and  eke  my  dreary  chere 
Have  cried  my  death  full  oft  unto  your  ears ; 
Hard  of  belief  it  doth  appear,  appear. 

A better  proof  I see  that  ye  would  have ; 

How  I am  dead,  therefore,  when  ye  hear  tell 
Believe  it  not,  although  ye  see  my  grave ; 

Cruel ! unkmd ! I say  farewell ! farewell ! 


HE  EEJOICETH  THE  OBTAINING  THE  EAYOUR 
OF  THE  MISTRESS  OF  HIS  HEART. 

After  great  storms  the  calm  returns. 

And  pleasanter  it  is  thereby ; 

Fortune  likewise  that  often  turns. 

Hath  made  me  now  the  most  happy. 

The  Heaven  that  pitied  my  distress, 

My  just  desire,  and  my  cry ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


61 


Hath  made  my  languor  to  cease. 

And  me  also  the  most  happy. 

Whereto  dispaired  ye,  my  friends? 

My  trust  alway  in  her  did  lie 

That  knoweth  what  my  thought  intends ; 

Whereby  I live  the  most  happy. 

Lo  ! what  can  take  hope  from  that  heart, 
That  is  assured  steadfastly ; 

Hope  therefore  ye  that  live  in  smart. 

Whereby  I am  the  most  happy.  ' 

And  I that  have  felt  of  your  pain 
Shall  pray  to  God  continually, 

To  make  your  hope,  your  health  retain. 

And  me  also  the  most  happy.  • 

— 0 — 

THE  LOVER  PRAYETH  VENUS  TO  CONDUCT 
HIM  TO  THE  DESIRED  HAVEN. 

Though  this  the  port,  and  I thy  servant  true. 
And  thou  thyself  doth  cast  thy  beams  from  high 
From  thy  chief  house,  promising  to  renew 
Both  joy  and  eke  delight,  behold  yet  how  that  I, 
Banished  from  my  bliss,  carefully  do  cry. 

Help  now  Cytheraea ! my  lady  dear. 

My  fearful  trust,  ‘ En  vogant  la  Galere.’ 

Alas  ! the  doubt  that  dreadful  absence  giveth ! 
Without  thine  aid  assurance  is  there  none ; 

The  firm  faith  that  in  the  water  fleteth. 


62 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poe^is. 


Succour  tliou  therefore,  in  thee  it  is  alone. 

Stay  that  with  faith,  that  faithfully  doth  moan, 

Thou  also  givest  me  both  hope  and  fear, 

Kemember  me  then,  ^ En  vogant  Galere.’ 

By  seas,  and  hills  elonged  from  thy  sight, 

Thy  wonted  grace  reducing  to  my  mind. 

Instead  of  sleep  thus  I occupy  the  night ; 

A thousand  thoughts,  and  many  doubts  I find. 

And  still  I trust  thou  canst  not  be  unkind. 

Or  else  despair  my  comfort  and  my  chere 
Would  she  forthwith,  ‘ En  vogant  la  Galere.’ 

Yet,  on  my  faith ! full  little  doth  remain 
Of  any  hope  whereby  I may  myself  uphold ; 

For  since  that  only  words  do  me  retain, 

I may  well  think  the  affection  is  but  cold. 

But  since  my  will  is  nothing  as  I would. 

And  in  thy  hands  it  resteth  whole  and  clear. 

Forget  me  not,  ‘ En  vogant  la  Galere.’ 

— ♦— 

THE  LOYEB  PRAISETH  THE  BEAUTY  OE  HIS 
LADYS  HAND. 

0 GOODLY  hand. 

Wherein  doth  stand 
My  heart  distract  in  pain : 

Dear  hand,  alas ! 

In  little  space 
My  life  thou  dost  restrain. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  63 

O fingers  slight. 

Departed  right, 

So  long,  so  small,  so  round ! 

Goodly  begone. 

And  yet  a bone 
Most  cruel  in  my  wound. 

With  lilies  white 
And  roses  bright 
Doth  strain  thy  colour  fair: 

Nature  did  lend 
Each  finger’s  end 
A pearl  for  to  repair. 

Consent  at  last, 

Since  that  thou  hast 
My  heart  in  thy  demain, 

For  service  true 
On  me  to  rue. 

And  reach  me  love  again. 


And  if  not  so 
There  with  more  woe 
Enforce  thyself  to  strain 
This  simple  heart. 
That  suffered  smart, 
And  rid  it  out  of  pain. 


64 


SIR  THO^iAs  Wyatt’s  poems. 


THAT  THE  EYE  BEWRAYETH  ALWAY  THE 
SECRET  AFFECTIONS  OF  THE  HEART. 

And  if  an  eye  may  save  or  slay, 

And  strike  more  deep  than  weapon  long ; 

And  if  an  eye  by  subtle  play, 

May  move  one  more  than  any  tongue ; 

How  can  ye  say  that  I do  wrong. 

Thus  to  suspect  without  desert  ? 

For  the  eye  is  traitor  to  the  heart. 

To  frame  all  well,  I am  content 
That  it  were  done  unweetingly ; 

But  yet  I say,  (who  will  assent,) 

To  do  but  well,  do  nothing  why 
That  men  should  deem  the  contrary ; 

F or  it  is  said  by  men  expert ; 

That  the  eye  is  traitor  of  the  heart. 

But  yet,  alas  ! that  look,  all  soul, 

That  I do  claim  of  right  to  have. 

Should  not,  methink go  seek  the  school, 

To  please  all  folk,  for  who  can  crave 
Friendlier  thing  than  heart  witsave 
By  look  to  give  in  friendly  part ; 

For  the  eye  is  traitor  of  the  heart. 

And  my  suspect  is  without  blame ; 

For  as  ye  say,  not  only  I 

But  other  mo  have  deem’d  the  same ; 


sm  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  65 

Then  is  it  not  jealousy, 

But  subtle  look  of  reckless  eye 
Did  range  too  far,  to  make  me  smart ; 

For  the  eye  is  traitor  of  the  heart. 

But  I your  Friend  shall  take  it  thus. 

Since  you  will  so,  as  stroke  of  chance ; 

And  leave  further  for  to  discuss. 

Whether  the  stroke  did  stick  or  glance  ? 

But  ’scuse  who  can  let  him  advance 
Dissembled  looks,  but  for  my  part, 

My  eye  must  still  betray  my  heart. 

And  of  this  grief  ye  shall  be  quit. 

In  helping  Truth  steadfast  to  go. 

The  time  is  long  that  Truth  doth  sit 
Feeble  and  weak,  and  suff’reth  woe ; 

Cherish  him  well,  continue  so ; 

Let  him  not  fro’  your  heart  astart ; 

Then  fears  not  the  eye  to  shew  the  heart. 


THE  LOVER  COMPLAINETH 

THAT  FAITH  MAY  NOT  AVAIL  WITHOUT  THE  FAVOUR  OF 
FANTASY. 

If  Fancy  would  favour, 

As  my  deserving  shall ; 

My  Love,  my  Paramour, 

Should  love  me  best  of  all. 

But  if  I cannot  attain 
The  grace  that  I desire, 

5 


66 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Then  may  J well  complain 
My  service,  and  my  hire. 

Fancy  doth  know  how 
To  further  my  true  heart ; 

If  F ancy  might  avow 
With  Faith  to  take  part. 

But  Fancy  is  so  frail 
And  flitting  still  so  fast, 

That  Faith  may  not  prevail 
To  help  me,  first  nor  last. 

For  Fancy  at  his  lust, 

Doth  rule  all  but  by  guess ; 
Whereto  should  I then  trust 
In  truth  or  steadfastness. 

Yet  gladly  would  I please 
The  fancy  of  her  heart, 

That  may  me  only  ease 
And  cure  my  careful  smart. 

Therefore,  my  Lady  dear. 
Set  once  your  Fantasy 
To  make  some  hope  appear, 
Of  steadfast  remedy. 

For  if  he  be  my  friend, 
And  undertake  my  woe. 

My  grief  is  at  an  end 
If  he  continue  so. 

Else  F ancy  doth  not  right ; 
As  I deserve  and  shall. 

To  have  you  day  and  night, 
To  love  me  best  of  all. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


67 


THAT  TOO  MUCH  CONEIDENCE  SOMETIMES 
DISAPPOINTETH  HOPE. 

My  hope,  alas  ! hath  me  abused, 

And  vain  rejoicing  hath  me  fed : 

Lust  and  joy  have  me  refused. 

And  careful  plaint  is  in  their  stead ; 

Too  much  advancing  slack’d  my  speed, 

Mirth  hath  caused  my  heaviness. 

And  I remain  all  comfortless. 

Whereto  did  I assure  my  thought 
Without  displeasure  steadfastly ; 

In  Fortune’s  forge  my  joy  was  wrought, 

And  is  revolted  readily. 

I am  mistaken  wonderly ; 

For  I thought  nought  but  faithfulness ; 

Yet  I remain  all  comfortless. 

In  gladsome  cheer  I did  delight. 

Till  that  delight  did  cause  my  smart. 

And  all  was  wrong  when  I thought  right ; 

For  right  it  was,  that  my  true  heart 
Should  not  from  Truth  be  set  apart. 

Since  Truth  did  cause  my  hardiness ; 

Yet  I remain  all  comfortless. 

Sometime  delight  did  tune  my  song. 

And  led  my  heart  full  pleasantly ; 

And  to  myself  I said  among ; 


68 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


^ My  hap  is  coming  hastily.’ 

But  it  hath  happed  contrary. 

Assurance  causeth  my  distress,  * 

And  I remain  all  comfortless. 

Then  if  my  note  now  do  vary, 

And  leave  his  wonted  pleasantness ; 

The  heavy  burthen  that  I carry 
Hath  alter’d  all  my  joyfulness. 

No  pleasure  hath  still  steadfastness. 

But  haste  hath  hurt  my  happiness ; 

And  I remain  all  comfortless. 

— f— 

THE  LOVER  BEMOANETH  HIS  UNHAPPINESS 

THAT  HE  CANNOT  OBTAIN  GRACE,  YET  CANNOT 
CEASE  LOVING. 

All  heavy  minds 
Do  seek  to  ease  their  charge ; 

And  that  that  most  them  binds 
To  let  at  large. 

Then  why  should  I 
Hold  pain  within  my  heart. 

And  may  my  tune  apply. 

To  ease  my  smart. 

My  faithful  Lute 
Alone  shall  hear  me  plain. 

For  else  all  other  suit 
Is  clean  in  vain. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


69 


For  where  I sue 
Redress  of  all  my  grief ; 

Lo  ! they  do  most  eschew 
My  heart’s  relief. 

Alas ! my  dear ! 

Have  I deserved  so  ? 

That  no  help  may  appear 
Of  all  my  woe  ! 

Whom  speak  I to  ? 

Unkind,  and  deaf  of  ear ! 

Alas  ! lo ! I go, 

And  wot  not  where. 

Where  is  my  thought  ? 

Where  wanders  my  desire? 
Where  may  the  thing  be  sought 
That  I require  ? 

Light  in  the  wind 
Doth  flee  all  my  delight ; 

Where  truth  and  faithful  mind 
Are  put  to  flight. 

Who  shall  me  give 
Feather’d  wings  for  to  flee  ? 

The  thing  that  doth  me  grieve 
That  I may  see ! 

Who  would  go  seek 
The  cause  whereby  to  pain  ? 
Who  could  his  foe  beseek 
For  ease  of  pain  ! 

My  chance  doth  so 
My  woful  case  procure, 


70 


SIR  THOMAS  TTYATT’s  POEMS. 


To  offer  to  mj  foe 
Mj  heart  to  cure. 

What  hope  I then 
To  have  any  redress ! 

Of  whom,  or  where,  or  when  ? 
Who  can  express ! 

No ! since  despair 
Hath  set  me  in  this  case, 

In  vain  is’t  in  the  air 
To  say,  Alas ! 

I seek  nothing 
But  thus  for  to  discharge 
My  heart  of  sore  sighing. 

To  plain  at  large. 

And  with  my  lute 
Sometime  to  ease  my  pain ; 
For  else  all  other  suit 
Is  clean  in  vain. 


THE  MOURNFUL  LOVER  TO  HIS  HEART  WITH 
COMPLAINT  THAT  IT  WILL  NOT  BREAK 

Comfort  thyself,  my  woful  heart. 

Or  shortly  on  thyself  thee  wreak ; 

For  length  redoubleth  deadly  smart ; 

Why  sigh’st  thou,  heart ! and  wilt  not  break  ? 

To  waste  in  sighs  were  piteous  death; 

Alas ! I find  thee  faint  and  weak. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS.  71 

Enforce  thyself  to  lose  thy  breath  ; 

Why  sigh’st  thou,  heart ! and  wilt  not  break  ? 

Thou  knowest  right  well  that  no  redress 
Is  thus  to  pine  ; and  for  to  speak, 

Perdie  1 it  is  remediless ; 

Why  siglf  st  thou  then,  and  wilt  not  break  ? 

It  is  too  late  for  to  refuse 
The  yoke,  when  it  is  on  thy  neck ! 

To  shake  it  off,  vaileth  not  to  muse ; 

Why  sigh’st  thou  then,  and  wilt  not  break  ? 

To  sob,  and  sigh  it  were  but  vain, 

Since  there  is  none  that  doth  it  reck ; 

Alas ! thou  dost  prolong  thy  pain ; 

Why  sigff st  thou  then,  and  wilt  not  break  ? 

Then  in  her  sight  to  move  her  heart 
Seek  on  thyself,  thyself  to  wreak, 

That  she  may  know  thou  suffered^st  smart ; 

Sigh  there  thy  last,  and  therewith  break. 

• 

— 0 — 

THE  LOVER  RENOUNCES  HIS  CRUEL  LOVE 
EOR  EVER. 

Alas  ! the  grief,  and  deadly  woful  smart, 

The  careful  chance,  shapen  afore  my  shert, 

The  sorrowful  tears,  the  sighs  hot  as  tire. 

That  cruel  love  hath  long  soked  from  my  heart ! 
And  for  reward  of  over  great  desire 
Disdainful  doubleness  have  I,  for  my  hire. 


72  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

0 ! lost  service  ! O pain  ill  rewarded  ! 

O ! pitiful  heart ! with  pain  enlarged ! 

0 ! faithful  mind ! too  suddenly  assented ! 

Keturn,  alas  ! sithens  thou  art  not  regarded. 

Too  great  a proof  of  true  faith  presented, 

Causeth  by  right  such  faith  to  be  repented. 

0 cruel  causer  of  undeserved  change, 

By  great  desire  unconstantly  to  range. 

Is  this  your  way  for  proof  of  steadfastness  ? 

Perdie ! you  know,  the  thing  was  not  so  strange, 

By  former  proof  too  much  my  faithfulness  ; 

What  needeth  then  such  coloured  doubleness  ? 

1 have  wailed  thus,  weeping  in  nightly  pain, 

In  sobs,  and  sighs,  alas ! and  aU  in  vain. 

In  inward  plaint,  and  hearts  woful  torment. 

And  yet,  alas  ! lo  ! cruelty  and  disdain 
Have  set  at  nought  a faithful  true  intent. 

And  price  hath  privilege  truth  to  prevent. 

But  though  I starve,  and  to  my  death  still  mourn. 
And  piecemeal  in  pieces  though  I be  torn ; 

And  though  I die,  yielding  my  wearied  ghost. 

Shall  never  thing  again  make  me  return. 

1 wite  thou  ....  of  that  that  I have  lost 
To  whom  so  ever  lust  for  to  prove  most. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


73 


A COMPLAINT  OP  HIS  LADY^S  CRUELTY. 

Since  ye  delight  to  know, 

That  my  torment  and  woe 
Should  still  increase 
Without  release, 

I shall  enforce  me  so, 

That  life  and  all  shall  go 
For  to  content  your  cruelness. 

And  so  this  grievous  train. 

That  I too  long  sustain. 

Shall  sometime  cesse, 

And  have  redress, 

And  you  also  remain, 

F ull  pleased  with  my  pain. 

For  to  content  your  cruelness. 

Unless  that  be  too  light. 

And  that  ye  would  ye  might. 

See  the  distress. 

And  heaviness. 

Of  one  slain  out  right, 

, Therewith  to  please  your  sight. 

And  to  content  your  cruelness. 

Then  in  your  cruel  mood 
Would  God ! forthwith  ye  would 
With  force  express. 

My  heart  oppress. 


74 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


To  do  your  heart  such  good, 
To  see  me  bathe  in  blood, 

For  to  content  your  cruelness. 

Then  could  ye  ask  no  more ; 
Then  should  ye  ease  my  sore. 
And  the  excess 
Of  my  distress ; 

And  you  should  evermore 
Defamed  be  therefore, 

For  to  repent  your  cruelness. 


OF  THE  CONTRARY  AFFECTIONS  OF  THE 
LOVER. 

Such  hap  as  I am  happed  in. 

Had  never  man  of  truth  I ween ; 

At  me  F ortune  list  to  begin, 

To  shew  that  never  hath  been  seen, 

A new  kind  of  unhappiness  ; 

Nor  I cannot  the  thing  I mean 
Myself  express. 

Myself  express  my  deadly  pain. 

That  can  I well,  if  that  might  serve ; 

But  when  I have  not  help  again. 

That  know  I not,  unless  I sterve. 

For  hunger  still  amiddes  my  food 
[Lacking  the  thing]  that  I deserve 
To  do  me  good. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


To  do  me  good  what  may  prevail. 

For  I deserve,  and  not  desire, 

And  still  of  cold  I me  bewail, 

And  raked  am  in  burning  fire ; 

For  though  I have,  such  is  my  lot, 

In  hand  to  help  that  I require. 

It  helpeth  not. 

It  helpeth  not  but  to  increase 
That,  that  by  proof  can  be  no  more  ; 
That  is,  the  heat  that  cannot  cease ; 

And  that  I have,  to  crave  so  sore. 

What  wonder  is  this  greedy  lust ! 

To  ask  and  have,  and  yet  therefore 
Refrain  I must. 

Refrain  I must ; what  is  the  cause  ? 
Sure  as  they  say,  ‘ So  hawks  be  taught.’ 
But  in  my  case  layeth  no  such  clause ; 

F or  with  such  craft  I am  not  caught ; 
Wherefore  I say,  and  good  cause  why. 
With  hapless  hand  no  man  hath  raught 
Such  hap  as  I. 


THAT  RIGHT  CANNOT  GOVERN  FANCY. 

I HAVE  sought  long  with  steadfastness 
To  have  had  some  ease  of  my  great  smart ; 
But  nought  availeth  faithfulness 
To  grave  within  your  stony  heart. 

But  hap,  and  hit,  or  els^  hit  not. 


76  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

As  uncertain  as  is  the  wind ; 

Right  so  it  fareth  by  the  shot 
Of  Love,  alas  ! that  is  so  blind. 

Therefore  I play’d  the  fool  in  vain, 

With  pity  when  I first  began 
Your  cruel  heart  for  to  constrain,  .. 

Since  love  regardeth  no  doubtful  man. 

But  of  your  goodness,  all  your  mind 
Is  that  I should  complain  in  vain ; 

This  is  the  favour  that  I find ; 

Ye  list  to  hear  how  I can  plain ! 

But  tho’  I plain  to  please  your  heart, 
Trust  me  I trust  to  temper  it  so, 

Not  for  to  care  which  do  revert ; 

All  shall  be  one,  or  wealth,  or  woe. 

For  fancy  ruleth,  though  Right  say  nay. 
Even  as  the  good  man  kist  his  cow : 

None  other  reason  can  ye  lay. 

But  as  who  sayeth ; ^ I reck  not  how.’ 


THAT  TRUE  LOVE  AVAILETII  NOT  WHEN 
FORTUNE  LIST  TO  FROWN. 

To  wish,  and  want,  and  not  obtain ; 

To  seek  and  sue  ease  of  my  pain. 

Since  all  that  ever  I do  is  vain. 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 
Although  I strive  both  day  and  hour 
Against  the  stream,  with  all  my  power. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS.  77 

If  Fortune  list  yet  for  to  lower, 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 

If  willingly  I suffer  woe ; 

If  from  the  fire  me  list  not  go ; 

If  then  I burn  to  plain  me  so, 

What  may  it  avail  me  ! 

And  if  the  harm  that  I suffer. 

Be  run  too  far  out  of  measure. 

To  seek  for  help  any  further. 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 

What  tho’  each  heart  that  heareth  me  plain, 
Pitieth  and  plaineth  for  my  pain ; 

If  I no  less  in  grief  remain. 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 

Yea ! though  the  want  of  my  relief 
Displease  the  causer  of  my  grief ; 

Since  I remain  still  in  mischief. 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 

Such  cruel  chance  doth  so  me  threat 
Continually  inward  to  freat. 

Then  of  release  for  to  treat ; 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 

Fortune  is  deaf  unto  my  call ; 

My  torment  moveth  her  not  at  all ; 

And  though  she  turn  as  doth  a ball. 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 

For  in  despair  there  is  no  rede ; 

To  want  of  ear,  speech  is  no  speed ; 

To  linger  still  alive  as  dead. 

What  may  it  avail  me ! 


78 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


THE  DECEIVED  LOVER  SUETH  ONLY  FOR 
LIBERTY. 

If  chance  assign’d, 

Were  to  my  mind, 

By  very  kind 
Of  destiny ; 

Yet  would  I crave 
Nought  else  to  have. 

But  life  and  hberty^ 

Then  were  I sure, 

I might  endure 
The  displeasure 
Of  cruelty ; 

Where  now  I plain, 

Alas ! in  vain. 

Lacking  my  life,  for  liberty. 
For  without  tlf  one, 

Th’  other  is  gone. 

And  there  can  none 
It  remedy ; 

If  th’  one  be  past, 

Th’  other  doth  waste, 

And  all  for  lack  of  liberty. 

And  so  I drive. 

As  yet  alive. 

Although  I strive 
With  misery ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATT’s  POEMS. 


79 


Drawing  my  breath. 

Looking  for  death, 

And  loss  of  life  for  liberty. 
But  thou  that  still, 

Mayst  at  thy  will. 

Turn  all  this  ill 
Adversity ; 

For  the  repair, 

Of  my  welfare, 

Grant  me  but  life  and  liberty. 
And  if  not  so, 

Then  let  all  go 
To  wretched  woe. 

And  let  me  die ; 

For  th’  one  or  th’  other, 

There  is  none  other ; 

My  death,  or  life  with  liberty. 


THE  LOVER  CALLETH  ON  HIS  LUTE  TO  HELP 
HIM  BEMOAN  HIS  HAPLESS  PATE. 

At  most  mischief 
I suffer  grief ; 

For  of  relief 

Since  I have  none, 

My  Lute  and  I 
Continually 
Shall  us  apply 

To  sigh  and  moan. 


80 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


Nought  may  prevail 
To  weep  or  wail ; 

Pity  doeth  fail 
In  you,  alas ! 
Mourning  or  moan, 
Complaint  or  none, 

It  is  all  one. 

As  in  this  case. 

For  cruelty, 

That  most  can  be, 

Hath  sovereignty 

Within  your  heart ; 
Which  maketh  bare, 

All  my  welfare : 

Nought  do  ye  care 

How  sore  I smart. 
No  tiger’s  heart 
Is  so  pervert. 

Without  desert 

To  wreak  his  ire ; 
And  you  me  kill 
For  my  good  will : 

Lo  1 how  I spill 

For  my  desire ! 
There  is  no  love 
That  can  ye  move, 

And  I can  prove 

None  other  way ; 
Therefore  I must 
Pestrain  my  lust, 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s.  POEMS. 


81 


Banish  my  trust, 

And  wealth  awaj. 
Thus  in  mischief 
I suffer  grief, 

For  of  relief 

Since  I have  none ; 
My  lute  and  I 
Continually 
Shall  us  apply 

To  sigh  and  moan. 


THAT  THE  POWER  OF  LOVE  IS  SUCH  HE 
WORKETH  IMPOSSIBILITIES. 

To  cause  accord,  or  to  agree 
Two  contraries  in  one  degree, 

And  in  one  point,  as  seemeth  me 
To  all  man’s  wit  it  cannot  be ; 

It  is  impossible ! 

Of  heat  and  cold  Avhen  I complain. 

And  say  that  heat  doth  cause  my  pain, 
When  cold  doth  shake  me  every  vein. 

And  both  at  once  ! I say  again. 

It  is  impossible ! 

That  man  that  hath  his  heart  away. 

If  life  liveth  there,  as  men  do  say. 

That  he  heartless  should  last  one  day 
Alive,  and  not  to  turn  to  clay. 

It  is  impossible  ! 

6 


82  SIR  THOMAS  ^YYATT’S  POEMS. 

’Twixt  life  and  death,  say  what  who  saith, 
There  liveth  no  life  that  draweth  breath ; 
They  join  so  near,  and  eke  V faith, 

To  seel?  for  life  by  wish  of  death, 

It  is  impossible  ! 

Yet  Love,  that  all  thing  doth  subdue. 
Whose  power  there  may  no  life  eschew. 
Hath  wrought  in  me  that  I may  rue 
These  miracles  to  be  so  true. 

That  are  impossible. 


THAT  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  HNREGAEDED  LOVER 
IS  WORSE  THAN  DEATH. 

What  death  is  worse  than  this ! 

When  my  delight, 

My  weal,  my  joy,  my  bliss. 

Is  from  my  sight 
Both  day  and  night, 

My  life,  alas  ! I miss. 

For  though  I seem  alive. 

My  heart  is  hence ; 

Thus  bootless  for  to  strive 
Out  of  presence 
Of  my  defence 
Toward  my  death  I drive. 

Heartless,  alas  ! what  man  ' 

May  long  endure ! 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT^S  POEMS. 


83 


Alas  ! how  live  I then  ; 

Since  no  recure 
May  me  assure 
My  life  I may  well  ban. 

Thus  doth  my  torment  grow 
In  deadly  dread 
Alas  1 who  might  live  so ; 
Alive,  as  dead : 

Alive,  to  lead 
A deadly  life  in  woe. 


THE  LOVEE  WHO  CANNOT  PEEYAIL  MUST 
NEEDS  HAVE  PATIENCE. 

Patience  for  my  device ; 

Impatience  for  your  part ! 

Of  contraries  the  guise 
Must  needs  be  overthwart. 

Patience ! for  I am  true ; 

The  contrary  for  you. 

Patience  ! a good  cause  why ! 

You  have  no  cause  at  all ; 

Trust  me,  that  stands  awry 
Perchance  may  sometime  fall. 

Patience  then  say,  and  sup 
A taste  of  Patience  cup. 

Patience  ! no  force  for  that 
Yet  brush  your  gown  again. 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATt’s  POEMS. 


Patience ! spurn  not  there  at ; 
Lest  folk  perceive  your  pain. 
Patience  at  my  pleasure, 
When  yours  hath  no  measure. 

The  other  was  for  me, 

This  Patience  is  for  you. 
Change  when  ye  list  let  see, 
For  I have  ta’en  a new. 
Patience  with  a good  will 
Is  easy  to  fulfil. 


WHEN  FORTUNE  SMILES  NOT,  ONLY 
PATIENCE  COMEORTETH. 

Patience  ! though  I have  not 
The  thing  that  I require ; 

I must,  of  force,  God  wot, 

Forbear  my  most  desire. 

For  no  ways  can  I find 
To  sail  against  the  wind. 

Patience  ! do  what  they  will 
To  work  me  woe  or  spite ; 

I shall  content  me  still 
To  think  both  day  and  night ; 

To  think,  and  hold  my  peace. 

Since  there  is  no  redress. 

Patience ! withouten  blame. 

For  I ofiended  nought ; 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


85 


I know  they  know  the  same. 

Though  they  have  changed  their  thought. 
Was  ever  thought  so  moved, 

To  hate  that  it  hath  loved  ? 

Patience  of  all  my  harm, 

F or  F ortune  is  my  foe ; 

Patience  must  be  the  charm 
To  heal  me  of  my  woe. 

Patience  without  offence 
Is  a painful  Patience. 


THAT  PATIENCE  ALONE  CAN  HEAL  THE 
WOUND  INELICTED  BY  ADVERSITY. 

Patience  of  all  my  smart ! 

For  F ortune  is  turned  awry : 

Patience  must  ease  my  heart, 

That  mourns  continually. 

Patience  to  suffer  wrong 
Is  a Patience  too  long. 

Patience  to  have  a nay, 

Of  that  I most  (Jesire  ; 

Patience  to  have  alway, 

And  ever  burn  like  fire. 

Patience  without  desart 
Is  grounder  of  my  smart. 

Who  can  with  merry  heart 


86 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


Set  forth  some  pleasant  song, 
That  always  feels  but  smart, 
And  never  hath  but  wrong  ? 
Yet  patience  evermore 
Must  heal  the  wound  and  sore. 

Patience  ! to  be  content. 
With  froward  F ortune’s  train ! 
Patience,  to  the  intent 
Somewhat  to  slake  my  pain : 

I see  no  remedy. 

But  suffer  patiently. 

To  plain  where  is  none  ear 
My  chance  is  chanced  so ; 

For  it  doth  well  appear 
My  Friend  is  turn’d  my  foe: 
But  since  there  is  no  defence, 
I must  take  Patience. 


THE  LOVER, 

HOPELESS  OF  GREATER  HAPPINESS,  CONTENTETH 
HIMSELF  WITH  ONLY  PITY. 

Tho’  I cannot  your  cruelty  constrain. 

For  my  good  will  to  favour  me  again ; 
Though  my  true  and  faithful  love 
Have  no  power  your  heart  to  move, 

Yet  rue  upon  my  pain ! 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  87 

Tho’  I your  thrall  must  evermore  remain. 

And  for  your  sake  my  liberty  restrain ; 

The  greatest  grace  that  I do  crave 
Is  that  ye  would  vouchsave 

To  rue  upon  my  pain  ! 

Though  I have  not  deserved  to  obtain 
So  high  reward,  but  thus  to  serve  in  vain, 
Though  I shall  have  no  redress. 

Yet  of  right  ye  can  no  less, 

But  rue  upon  my  pain ! 

But  I see  well,  that  your  high  disdain 
Will  no  wise  grant  that  I shall  more  attain ; 
Yet  ye  must  grant  at  the  last 
This  my  poor,  and  small  request ; 

Kejoice  not  at  my  pain ! 


THAT  TIME,  HUMBLENESS,  AND  PRAYEK, 

CAN  SOFTEN  EVERY  THING  SAVE  HIS 

lady’s  heart. 

Process  of  time  worketh  such  wonder, 
That  water  which  is  of  kind  so  soft. 

Doth  pierce  the  marble  stone  asunder. 

By  little  drops  falling  from  aloft. 

And  yet  a heart  that  seems  so  tender, 
Peceiveth  no  drop  of  the  stilling  tears 
That  alway  still  cause  me  to  render, 

The  vain  plaint  that  sounds  not  in  her  ears. 


88  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

So  cruel,  alas ! is  nought  alive, 

So  fierce,  so  froward,  so  out  of  frame. 

But  some  way,  some  time  may  so  contrive 
By  means  the  wild  to  temper  and  tame. 

And  I that  always  have  sought,  and  seek 
Each  place,  each  time  for  some  lucky  day, 

This  fierce  tiger,  less  I find  her  meek, 

And  more  denied  the  longer  I pray. 

The  lion  in  his  raging  furour 
Forbears  that  sueth,  meekness  for  his  [boot]  ; 
And  thou,  alas ! in  extreme  dolour. 

The  heart  so  low  thou  treads  under  thy  foot. 

Each  fierce  thing,  lo  ! how  thou  dost  exceed. 
And  hides  it  under  so  humble  a face ! 

And  yet  the  humble  to  help  at  need 
Nought  helpeth  time,  humbleness,  nor  place. 


THAT  UNKINDNESS  HATH  SLAIN  HIS  POOR 
TRUE  HEART. 

If  in  the  world  there  be  more  woe 
Than  I have  in  my  heart  ; 

Whereso  it  is,  it  doth  come  fro’. 

And  in  my  breast  there  doth  it  grow. 

For  to  increase  my  smart. 

Alas  ! I am  receipt  of  every  care  ; 

And  of  my  life  each  sorrow  claims  his  part. 
Who  list  to  live  in  quietness 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POE3IS. 


89 


By  me  let  him  beware. 

For  I by  high  disdain 
Am  made  without  redress ; 

And  unkindness,  alas  ! hath  slain 
My  poor  true  heart,  all  comfortless. 


THE  DYING  LOVER  COMPLAINETH 

THAT  HIS  MISTRESS  REGARDETH  NOT  HIS  SUFFERINGS. 

Like  as  the  swan  towards  her  death 
Doth  strain  her  voice  with  doleful  note ; 
Bight  so  sing  I with  waste  of  breath, 

I die  ! I die  ! and  you  regard  it  not. 

I shall  enforce  my  fainting  breath. 

That  all  that  hears  this  deadly  note. 

Shall  know  that  you  dost  cause  my  death, 

I die  ! I die  ! and  you  regard  it  not. 

Your  unkindness  hath  sworn  my  death, 
And  changed  hath  my  pleasant  note 
To  painful  sighs  that  stop  my  breath. 

I die  ! I die  ! and  you  regard  it  not. 

Consumeth  my  life,  faileth  my  breath, 
Your  fault  is  forger  of  this  note ; 

Melting  in  tears  a cruel  death. 

I die  ! I die  ! and  you  regard  it  not. 

My  faith  with  me  after  my  death 
Buried  shall  be,  and  to  this  note 
I do  bequeath  my  weary  breath 
To  cry,  I die ! and  you  regard  it  not. 


90 


SIK  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS, 


THE  CABEEUL  LOVER  COMPLAINETH,  AND 
THE  HAPPY  LOVER  COUNSELLETH. 

Ah!  Robin! 

Joly  Robin! 

Tell  me  how  thy  Leman  doth  ? 

And  thou  shalt  know  of  mine. 

‘ My  Lady  is  unkind,  perdie ! ’ 

Alack,  why  is  she  so  ! 

^ She  loveth  an  other  better  than  me, 

And  yet  she  will  say,  no.’ 

RESPONSE. 

I find  no  such  doubleness ; 

I find  women  true. 

My  lady  loveth  me  doubtless, 

And  will  change  for  no  new. 

LE  PLAINTIF. 

Thou  art  happy  while  that  doth  last, 

But  I say  as  I find ; 

That  woman’s  love  is  but  a blast. 

And  turneth  like  the  wind. 

RESPONSE. 

But  if  thou  wilt  avoid  thy  harm. 

Learn  this  lesson  of  me  ; 

At  others  fires  thyself  to  warm. 

And  let  them  warm  with  thee. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


91 


LE  PLAINTIF. 

Such  folks  shall  take  no  harm  by  love. 
That  can  abide  their  turn ; 

But  I,  alas,  can  no  way  prove 
In  love,  but  lack,  and  mourn. 


THE  LOVER  HAYING  BROKEN  HIS  BONDAGE, 

VOWETII  NEVER  MORE  TO  BE  ENTHRALLED. 

In  seternum  I was  once  determed, 

For  to  have  loved  and  my  mind  affirmed, 

That  with  my  heart  it  should  be  confirmed. 

In  seternum. 

Forthwith  I found  tlie  thing  that  I might  like. 
And  sought  with  love  to  warm  her  heart  alike. 
For  as  me  thought  I should  not  see  the  like. 

In  aeternum. 

To  trace  this  dance  I put  myself  in  press. 

Vain  Hope  did  lead,  and  bade  I should  not  cesse, 
To  serve  to  suffer,  and  still  to  hold  my  peace 
In  seternum. 

With  this  first  rule  I furtherd  me  a pace. 

That  as  me  thought  my  truth  had  taken  place. 
With  full  assurance  to  stand  in  her  grace, 

In  a0ternum.. 

It  was  not  long  ere  I by  proof  had  found 
That  feeble  building  is  on  feeble  ground. 

For  in  her  heart  this  word  did  never  sound 
In  seternum. 


92 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


In  aeternum  then  from  mj  heart  I cest 
That,  I had  first  determined  for  the  best, 
Now  in  the  place  another  thought  doth  rest, 
In  asternum. 


THE  ABUSED  LOYEK  ADMONISHES  THE 
UNWARY  TO  BEWARE  OF  LOYE. 

Lo  ! what  it  is  to  love  ! 

Learn  ye  that  list  to  prove 
At  me,  I say ; 

No  ways  that  may 

The  grounded  grief  remove, 

My  life  alway 
That  doth  decay ; 

Lo  ! what  it  is  to  love. 

Flee  alway  from  the  snare : 

Learn  by  me  to  beware 
Of  such  a train 
Which  doubles  pain. 

And  endless  woe,  and  care 
That  doth  retain ; 
lYhich  to  refrain 
Flee  alway  from  the  snare. 

To  love,  and  to  be  wise, 

To  rage  with  good  advice ; 

Now  thus,  now  than. 

Now  off,  now  an. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


93 


Uncertain  as  the  dice ; 

There  is  no  man 
At  once  that  can 
To  love  and  to  be  wise. 

Such  are  the  divers  throes, 
Such  that  no  man  knows 
That  hath  not  prov’d 
And  once  have  lov’d ; 

Such  are  the  raging  woes 
Sooner  reprov’d 
Than  well  remov’d. 

Such  are  the  divers  throes. 

Love  is  a fervent  fire 
Kindled  by  hot  desire  ; 

For  a short  pleasure 
Long  displeasure, 

Kepentance  is  the  hire ; 

A poor  treasure. 

Without  measure ; 

Love  is  a fervent  fire. 

Lo  ! what  it  is  to  love ! 


A REPEOOF  TO  SUCH  AS  SLANDER  LOYE. 

Leave  thus  to  slander  love ! 

Though  evil  with  such  it  prove, 

Which  often  use 
Love  to  misuse. 


94 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


And  loving  to  reprove ; 

Such  cannot  choose 

For  their  refuse 

But  thus  to  slander  Love. 

Flee  not  so  much  the  snare  ! 
Love  seldom  causeth  care. 

But  by  deserts 

And  crafty  parts 

Some  lose  their  own  welfare. 

Be  true  of  heart ; 

And  for  no  smart, 

Flee  not  so  much  the  snare. 

To  love,  and  not  to  be  wise, 
Is  but  a mad  device ; 

Such  love  doth  last 
As  sure  and  fast. 

As  chance  on  the  dice, 

A bitter  taste 
Comes  at  the  last. 

To  love,  and  not  to  be  wise. 

Such  be  the  pleasant  days. 
Such  be  the  honest  ways. 
There  is  no  man 
That  fully  can 
Know  it,  but  he  that  says 
Loving  to  ban 
Were  folly  then ; 

Such  be  the  pleasant  days. 

Love  is  a pleasant  fire 
Kindled  by  true  desire ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 

And  though  the  pain 
Cause  men  to  plain, 

Speed  well  is  oft  the  hire. 

Then  though  some  feign 
And  lose  the  gain, 

Love  is  a pleasant  fire. 

Who  most  doeth  slander  love, 
The  deed  must  alway  prove. 
Truth  shall  excuse 
That  you  accuse 
For  slander,  and  reprove. 

Not  by  refuse. 

But  by  abuse. 

You  most  do  slander  love ! 

Ye  grant  it  is  a snare. 

And  would  us  not  beware. 

Lest  that  your  train 
Should  be  too  plain 
Ye  colour  all  the  care ; 

Lo  ! how  you  feign 
Pleasure  for  pain. 

And  grant  it  is  a snare. 

To  love,  and  to  be  wise, 

It  were  a strange  device  : 

But  from  that  taste 
Ye  vow  the  fast. 

On  cinques  though  run  your  dice, 
Ambsace  may  haste 
Your  pain  to  waste. 

To  love  and  to  be  wise. 


96 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Of  all  such  pleasant  days, 

Of  all  such  pleasant  plays, 
Without  desart, 

You  have  your  part. 

And  all  the  world  so  says ; 

Save  that  poor  heart 
That  for  more  smart, 

Feeleth  not  such  pleasant  days. 

Such  fire,  and  such  heat. 

Did  never  make  ye  sweat ; 

For  without  pain 

You  best  obtain 

Too  good  speed,  and  too  great. 

Whoso  doeth  plain 

You  best  do  feign. 

Such  fire,  and  such  heat. 

Who  now  doth  slander  Love  ? 


DESPAIR  COUNSELLETH  THE  DESERTED 

LOVER  TO  END  HIS  WOES  BY  DEATH,  BUT 
REASON  BRINGETH  COMFORT. 

Most  wretched  heart ! most  miserable, 
Since  thy  comfort  is  from  thee  fied ; 

Since  all  thy  truth  is  turned  to  fable 

Most  wretched  heart ! why  art  thou  not  dead  ? 

‘ No ! no ! I live,  and  must  do  still ; 
Whereof  I thank  God,  and  no  mo ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

For  I myself  have  at  my  will, 

And  he  is  wretched  that  weens  him  so.’ 

But  yet  thou  hast  both  had  and  lost 
The  hope,  so  long  that  hath  thee  fed. 

And  all  thy  travail,  and  thy  cost ; 

Most  wretched  heart ! why  art  thou  not  dead  ? 

^ Some  other  hope  must  feed  me  new : 

If  I have  lost,  I say  what  tho ! 

Despair  shall  not  therewith  ensue  ; 

For  he  is  wretched,  that  weens  him  so.’ 

The  sun,  the  moon  doth  frown  on  thee 
Thou  hast  darkness  in  daylight  stead : 

As  good  in  grave,  as  so  to  be ; 

Most  wretched  heart ! why  art  thou  not  dead  ? 

^ Some  pleasant  star  may  shew  me  light ; 

But  though  the  heaven  would  work  me  woe, 
Who  hath  himself  shall  stand  upright ; 

And  he  is  wretched  that  weens  him  so.’ 

Hath  he  himself  that  is  not  sure  ? 

His  trust  is  like  as  he  hath  sped. 

Against  the  stream  thou  mayst  not  dure ; 

Most  wretched  heart ! why  art  thou  not  dead  ?, 
^ The  last  is  worst : who  fears  not  that 
He  hath  himself  whereso  he  go : 

And  he  that  knoweth  what  is  what, 

Saith  he  is  wretched  that  w^eens  him  so.’ 

Seest  thou  not  how  they  whet  their  teeth, 
Which  to  touch  thee  sometime  did  dread  ? 
They  find  comfort,  for  thy  mischief. 

Most  wretched  heart ! why  art  thou  not  dead  ? 

7 


98 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


‘ What  though  that  curs  do  fall  by  kind 
On  him  that  hath  the  overthrow ; 

All  that  cannot  oppress  my  mind ; 

For  he  is  wretched  that  weens  him  so.’ 

Yet  can  it  not  be  then  denied. 

It  is  as  certain  as  thy  creed, 

Thy  great  unha]3  thou  canst  not  hide ; 

Unhappy  then ! why  art  thou  not  dead  ? 

^ Unhappy  ; but  no  wretch  therefore  ! 

For  hap  doth  come  again,  and  go. 

For  which  I keep  myself  in  store ; 

Since  unhap  cannot  kill  me  so.’ 

— • — 

THE  LOVER’S  LUTE  CANNOT  BE  BLAMED 

THOUGH  IT  SING  OF  HIS  LADY’S  UNKINDNESS. 

Blame  not  my  Lute ! for  he  must  sound 
Of  this  or  that  as  liketh  me  ; 

For  lack  of  wit  the  Lute  is  bound 
To  give  such  tunes  as  pleaseth  me ; 

Though  my  songs  be  somewhat  strange, 

And  speak  such  words  as  touch  thy  change, 
Blame  not  my  Lute  ! 

My  Lute ! alas  ! doth  not  offend. 

Though  that  perforce  he  must  agree 
To  sound  such  tunes  as  I intend. 

To  sing  to  them  that  heareth  me ; 

Then  though  my  songs  be  somewhat  plain, 


SIR  TH03IAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  99 

And  toucheth  some  that  use  to  feign, 

Blame  not  my  Lute  ! 

My  Lute  and  strings  may  not  deny, 

But  as  I strike  they  must  obey ; 

Break  not  them  then  so  wrongfully. 

But  wreak  thyself  some  other  way ; 

And  though  the  songs  which  I indite 
Do  quit  thy  change  with  rightful  spite, 

Blame  not  my  Lute  ! 

Spite  asketh  spite,  and  changing  change. 

And  falsed  faith  must  needs  be  known ; 

The  faults  so  great,  the  cause  so  strange ; 

Of  right  it  must  abroad  be  blown : 

Then  since  that  by  thine  own  desert 
My  songs  do  tell  how  true  thou  art. 

Blame  not  my  Lute  ! 

Blame  but  thyself  that  hast  misdone. 

And  well  deserved  to  have  blame ; 

Change  thou  thy  way,  so  evil  begone. 

And  then  my  Lute  shall  sound  that  same ; 

But  if  ’till  then  my  fingers  play. 

By  thy  desert  their  wonted  way. 

Blame  not  my  Lute  ! 

F are  well ! unknown  ; for  though  thou  break 
My  strings  in  spite  with  great  disdain. 

Yet  have  I found  out  for  thy  sake. 

Strings  for  to  string  my  Lute  again : 

And  if,  perchance,  this  sely  rhyme 
Do  m^ike  thee  blush,  at  any  time. 

Blame  not  my  Lute ! 


100 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


THE  NEGLECTED  LOVER 

CALLETH  ON  HIS  PEN  TO  RECORD  THE  UNGENTLE 
BEHAVIOUR  OF  HIS  UNKIND  MISTRESS. 

My  pen ! take  pain  a little  space 
To  follow  that  which  doth  me  chase, 

And  hath  in  hold  my  heart  so  sore ; 

But  when  thou  hast  this  brought  to  pass, 
My  pen ! I prithee  write  no  more. 

Remember  oft  thou  hast  me  eased. 

And  all  my  pains  full  well  appeased. 

But  now  I know,  unknown  before, 

F or  where  I trust,  I am  deceived ; 

And  yet,  my  pen  I thou  can’st  no  more. 

A time  thou  haddest  as  other  have 
To  write  which  way  my  hope  to  crave ; 
That  time  is  past,  withdraw,  therefore : 
Since  we  do  lose  that  others  have. 

As  good  leave  off  and  write  no  more. 

In  worth  to  use  another  way ; 

Not  as  we  would,  but  as  we  may. 

For  once  my  loss  is  past  restore, 

And  my  desire  is  my  decay ; 

My  pen  ! yet  write  a little  more. 

To  love  in  vain,  who  ever  shall 
Of  worldly  pain  it  passeth  all. 

As  in  like  case  I find ; wherefore 
To  hold  so  fast,  and  yet  to  fall ! 

Alas ! my  pen,  now  write  no  more. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


101 


Since  thou  hast  taken  pain  this  space 
To  follow  that  which  doth  me  chace, 

And  hath  in  hold  my  heart  so  sore. 

Now  hast  thou  brought  my  mind  to  pass, 
My  pen ! I prithee  write  no  more. 


THAT  CAUTION  SHOULD  BE  USED  IN  LOVE. 

Take  heed  by  time,  lest  ye  be  spied : 

Your  loving  eyes  can  it  not  hide. 

At  last  the  truth  will  sure  be  tried ; 

Therefore,  take  heed ! 

For  some  there  be  of  crafty  kind. 

Though  you  show  no  part  of  your»mind, 

Surely  their  eyes  can  ye  not  blind ; 

Therefore,  take  heed ! 

For  in  like  case  theirselves  hath  been. 

And  thought  right  sure  none  had  them  seen, 
But  it  was  not  as  they  did  ween. 

Therefore,  take  heed ! 

Although  they  be  of  divers  schools. 

And  well  can  use  all  crafty  tools. 

At  length  they  prove  themselves  but  fools. 

Therefore,  take  heed ! 

If  they  might  take  you  in  that  trap. 

They  would  soon  leave  it  in  your  lap ; 

To  love  unspied  is  but  a hap ; 

Therefore,  take  heed ! 


102 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


AN  EARNEST  REQUEST 

TO  HIS  CRUEL  MISTRESS  EITHER  TO  PITY  HIM,  OR 
LET  HIM  DIE. 

At  last  withdraw  your  cruelty, 

Or  let  me  die  at  once ; 

It  is  too  much  extremity, 

Devised  for  the  nonce, 

To  hold  me  thus  alive, 

In  pain  still  for  to  drive : 

What  may  I more  sustain, 

Alas  ! that  die  would  fain. 

And  cannot  die  for  pain  ? 

For  to  the  flame  wherewith  ye  burn. 
My  thought  and  my  desire, 

When  into  ashes  it  should  turn 
My  heart,  by  fervent  fire. 

Ye  send  a stormy  rain 
That  doth  it  quench  again. 

And  make  mine  eyes  express. 

The  tears  that  do  redress 
My  life,  in  wretchedness. 

Then  when  these  should  have  drown’d. 
And  overwhelm’d  my  heart. 

The  heart  doth  them  confound. 

Renewing  all  my  smart ; 

Then  doth  flame  increase. 

My  torment  cannot  cease  ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATT’s  POEMS. 


103 


My  woe  doth  then  revive, 

And  I remain  alive, 

With  death  still  for  to  strive. 

But  if  that  ye  would  have  my  death. 
And  that  ye  would  none  other. 

Shortly  then  for  to  spend  my  breath, 
AYithdraw  the  one,  or  t’  other ; 

For  thus  your  cruelness 
Doth  let  itself  doubtless ; 

And  it  is  reason  why  ! 

No  man  alive,  nor  I, 

Of  double  death  can  die. 


THE  ABUSED  LOVER  REPROACHETH  HIS 
FALSE  MISTRESS  OF  DISSIMULATION 

To  wet  your  eye  withouten  tear. 

And  in  good  health  to  feign  disease, 

That  you  thereby  mine  eyen  might  blear. 
Therewith  your  other  friends  to  please ; 

And  though  ye  think  ye  need  not  fear. 

Yet  so  ye  can  not  me  appease  ; 

But  as  ye  list  fawn,  flatter,  or  glose. 

Ye  shall  not  win,  if  I do  lose. 

Prate,  and  paint,  and  spare  not. 

Ye  know  I can  me  wreak ; 

And  if  so  be  ye  can  so  not. 

Be  sure  I do  not  reck ; 


104 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


And  though  ye  swear  it  v;ere  not, 

I can  both  swear  and  speak 
By  God,  and  by  this  cross, 

If  I have  the  mock,  ye  shall  have  the  loss. 


HE  BEWAILS  HIS  HAED  FATE  THAT  THOUGH 

BELOVED  OF  HIS  MISTRESS  HE  STILL  LIVES  IN  PAIN. 

I LOVE,  loved  ; and  so  doth  she. 

And  yet  in  love  we  suffer  still ; 

The  cause  is  strange  as  seemeth  me. 

To  love  so  well,  and  want  our  will. 

O ! deadly  yea ! O ! grievous  smart ! 

Worse  than  refuse,  unhappy  gain ! 

In  love  who  ever  play’d  this  part, 

To  love  so  well,  and  live  in  pain. 

Were  ever  hearts  so  well  agreed, 

Since  love  was  love  as  I do  trow ; 

That  in  their  love  so  evil  did  speed. 

To  love  so  well,  and  live  in  woe. 

Thus  mourn  we  both,  and  hath  done  long, 
With  woful  plaint  and  careful  voice ; 

Alas  ! it  is  a grievous  wrong. 

To  love  so  well,  and  not  rejoice. 

Send  here  an  end  of  all  our  moan. 

With  sighing  oft  my  breath  is  scant ; 

Since  of  mishap  ours  is  alone. 

To  love  so  well,  and  yet  to  want. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


105 


But  they  that  causers  be  of  this, 

Of  all  our  cares  God  send  them  part ; 
That  they  may  know  what  grief  it  is, 
To  love  so  well,  and  live  in  smart. 


A COMPLAINT  OF  THE  FALSENESS  OF  LOVE. 

It  is  a grievous  smart. 

To  suffer  pain  and  sorrow ; 

But  most  grieveth  my  heart. 

He  laid  his  faith  to  borrow ; 

And  falsehood  hath  his  faith  and  troth, 

And  he  foresworn  by  many  an  oath. 

All  ye  lovers,  perdie ! 

Hath  cause  to  blame  his  deed, 

Which  shall  example  be. 

To  let  you  of  your  speed ; 

Let  never  woman  again 

Trust  to  such  words  as  man  can  feign. 

For  I unto  my  cost 
Am  warning  to  you  all ; 

That  they  whom  you  trust  most 
Soonest  deceive  you  shall ; 

But  complaint  cannot  redress. 

Of  my  great  grief  the  great  excess. 

F arewell ! all  my  welfare  1 
My  shoe  is  trod  awry. 

Now  may  I cark  and  care, 


106 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


To  sing  lullaby ! lullaby ! 

Alas  ! wliat  shall  I do  thereto  ? 
There  is  no  shift  to  help  me  now. 

Who  made  it  such  offence, 

To  love  for  love  again ; 

God  wot ! that  my  pretence 
Was  but  to  ease  his  pain ; 

For  I had  ruth  to  see  his  woe : 
Alas  ! more  fool ! why  did  I so ! 

For  he  from  me  is  gone, 

And  makes  thereat  a game ; 

And  hath  left  me  alone. 

To  suffer  sorrow  and  shame ; 
Alas  ! he  is  unkind  doubtless. 

To  leave  me  thus  all  comfortless. 


THE  LOVER  SUETH  THAT  HIS  SERVICE  MAY 
BE  ACCEPTED. 

The  heart  and  service  to  you  proffer’d 
With  right  good  will  full  honestly. 

Refuse  it  not  since  it  is  offer’d. 

But  take  it  to  you  gentlely. 

And  though  it  be  a small  present, 

Yet  good,  consider  graciously. 

The  thought,  the  mind,  and  the  intent 
Of  him  that  loves  you  faithfully. 

It  were  a thing  of  small  effect 
To  work  my  woe  thus  cruelly ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’^  POEMS. 


107 


For  my  good  will  to  be  object. 
Therefore  accept  it  lovingly. 

Pain,  or  travail ; to  run,  or  ride, 

I undertake  it  pleasantly ; 

Bid  ye  me  go  and  straight  I glide. 

At  your  commandment  humbly. 

Pain  or  pleasure  now  may  you  plant, 
Even  which  it  please  you  steadfastly ; 
Do  which  you  list,  I shall  not  want 
To  be  your  servant  secretly. 

And  since  so  much  I do  desire, 

To  be  your  own  assuredly  ; 

For  all  my  service,  and  my  hire 
Reward  your  servant  liberally. 


OF  THE  PAINS  AND  SOEKOWS  CAUSED 
BY  LOYE. 

What  meaneth  this  ! when  I lie  alone 
I toss,  I turn,  I sigh,  I groan ; 

My  bed  me  seems  as  hard  as  stone : 

What  means  this  ? 

I sigh,  I plain  continually ; 

The  clothes  that  on  my  bed  do  lie. 

Always  me  think  they  lie  awry ; 

What  means  this  ? 

In  slumbers  oft  for  fear  I quake ; 

For  heat  and  cold  I burn  and  shake ; 

For  lack  of  sleep  my  head  doth  ake ; 
What  means  this  ? 


108  SIR'  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 

A mornings  then  when  I do  rise, 

I turn  unto  my  wonted  guise, 

All  day  after  muse  and  devise ; 

What  means  this  ? 

And  if  perchance  by  me  there  pass, 

She,  unto  whom  I sue  for  grace. 

The  cold  blood  forsaketh  my  face ; 

What  means  this  ? 

But  if  I sit  near  her  by. 

With  loud  voice  my  heart  doth  cry, 

And  yet  my  mouth  is  dumb  and  dry ; 

What  means  this  ? 

To  ask  for  help  no  heart  I have ; 

My  tongue  doth  fail  what  I should  crave ; 
Yet  inwardly  I rage  and  rave ; 

What  means  this  ? 

Thus  have  I passed  many  a year, 

And  many  a day,  though  nought  appear. 
But  most  of  that  that  most  I fear ; 

What  means  this  ? 


THE  LOVER  RECOUNTETH  THE  VARIABLE 
EANCY  OF  HIS  FICKLE  MISTRESS. 

Is  it  possible  ? 

That  so  high  debate. 

So  sharp,  so  sore,  and  of  such  rate. 

Should  end  so  soon,  and  was  begun  so  late. 

Is  it  possible  ? 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s*  POEMS.  109’ 

Is  it  possible  ? 

So  cruel  intent, 

So  hasty  heat,  and  so  soon  spent. 

From  love  to  hate,  and  thence  for  to  relent, 

Is  it  possible  ? 

Is  it  possible  ? 

That  any  may  find. 

Within  one  heart  so  diverse  mind. 

To  change  or  turn  as  weather  and  wind, 

Is  it  possible  ? 

Is  it  possible  ? 

To  spy  it  in  an  eye. 

That  turns  as  oft  as  chance  or  die. 

The  truth  whereof  can  any  try ; 

Is  it  possible  ? 

It  is  possible. 

For  to  turn  so  oft ; 

To  bring  that  lowest  that  was  most  aloft ; 

And  to  fall  highest,  yet  to  light  soft ; 

It  is  possible ! 

All  is  possible ! 

Whoso  list  believe. 

Trust  therefore  first  and  after  preve ; 

As  men  wed  ladies  by  license  and  leave ; 

All  is  possible ! 


110 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


THE  ABUSED  LOYEE. 

BEWAILS  THE  TIME  THAT  EVER  HIS  EYE  BEHELD  HER  TO 
WHOM  HE  HAD  GIVEN  HIS  FAITHFUL  HEART. 

Alas  ! poor  man,  what  hap  have  I, 

That  must  forbear  that  I love  best ! 

I trow,  it  be  my  destiny, 

Never  to  live  in  quiet  rest. 

No  wonder  is  though  I complain ; 

Not  without  cause  ye  may  be  sure ; 

I seek  for  that  I cannot  attain. 

Which  is  my  mortal  displeasure. 

Alas ! poor  heart,  as  in  this  case 
With  pensive  plaint  thou  art  opprest ; 

Unwise  thou  were  to  desire  place 
Whereas  another  is  possest. 

Do  what  I can  to  ease  thy  smart, 

Thou  wilt  not  let  to  love  her  still ; 

Hers,  and  not  mine  I see  thou  art ; 

Let  her  do  by  thee  as  she  will. 

A careful  carcass  full  of  pain 
Now  hast  thou  left  to  mourn  for  thee, 

The  heart  once  gone,  the  body  is  slain. 

That  ever  I saw  her  woe  is  me  ; 

Mine  eye,  alas ! was  cause  of  this. 

Which  her  to  see  had  never  his  fill ; 

To  me  that  sight  full  bitter  is. 

In  recompense  of  my  good  will. 


SIR  THOMAS’  Wyatt’s-  poems. 


Ill 


She  that  I serve  all  other  above 
Hath  paid  my  hire,  as  ye  may  see ; 
I was  unhappy,  and  that  I prove, 
To  love  above  my  poor  degree. 

— ♦ — 


AN  EAKNEST  SUIT  TO  HIS  UNKIND  MISTRESS 
NOT  TO  EORSAKE  HIM. 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 

Say  nay  ! say  nay  ! for  shame ! 

To  save  thee  from  the  blame 
Of  all  my  grief  and  grame. 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 

Say  nay ! say  nay ! 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 

That  hath  lov’d  thee  so  long  ? 

In  wealth  and  woe  among : 

And  is  thy  heart  so  strong 
As  for  to  leave  me  thus  ? 

Say  nay ! say  nay  ! 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 

That  hath  given  thee  my  heart 
Never  for  to  depart ; 

Neither  for  pain  nor  smart : 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus? 

Say  nay  ! say  nay ! 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus, 

And  have  no  more  pity, 


112  SIR  THOMAS  WTATT’s  POEMS. 

Of  him  that  loveth  thee  ? 

Alas ! thy  cruelty  ! 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 

Say  nay ! say  nay ! 

—4 

HE  KEMEMBEEETH  THE  PROMISE  HIS  LADY 

ONCE  GAVE  HIM  OF  AFFECTION,  AND  COMFOKTETH 
HIMSELF  WITH  HOPE. 

That  time  that  mirth  did  steer  my  ship, 
Which  now  is  fraught  with  heaviness 
And  Fortune  beat  not  then  the  lip, 

But  was  defence  of  my  distress, 

Then  in  my  book  wrote  my  mistress ; 

‘ I am  yours,  you  may  well  be  sure ; 

And  shall  be  while  my  life  doth  dure.’ 

But  she  herself  which  then  wrote  that 
Is  now  mine  extreme  enemy ; 

Above  all  men  she  doth  me  hate, 

Bejoicing  of  my  misery. 

But  though  that  for  her  sake  I die, 

I shall  be  hers,  she  may  be  sure. 

As  long  as  my  life  doth  endure. 

It  is  not  time  that  can  wear  out 
With  me  that  once  is  firmly  set ; 

While  Nature  keeps  her  course  about 
My  love  from  her  no  man  can  let. 

Though  never  so  sore  they  me  threat, 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  pOems. 


iia 


Yet  am  I hers,  she  may  be  sure ; 

And  shall  be  while  that  life  doth  dure. 

And  once  I trust  to  see  that  day, 
Eenewer  of  my  joy  and  wealth, 

That  she  to  me  these  words  shall  say ; 

‘In  faith!  welcome  to  me  myself! 
Welcome  my  joy!  welcome  my  health. 
For  I am  thine,  thou  mayst  be  sure. 

And  shall  be  while  that  life  doth  dure.’ 

Aye  me  ! alas  ! what  words  were  these  ! 
Incontinent  I might  find  them  so ! 

I reck  not  what  smart  or  disease 
I suffered,  so  that  I might  know 
[After  my  passed  pain  and  woe] 

That  she  were  mine ; and  might  be  sure 
She  should  be  while  that  life  doth  dure. 


THAT  ALL  HIS  JOY  DEPENDETH  ON  HIS 
LADY^S  EAVOUR. 

As  power  and  wit  will  me  assist. 

My  will  shall  will  even  as  ye  list. 

For  as  ye  list  my  will  is  bent 
In  every  thing  to  be  content. 

To  serve  in  love  ’till  life  be  spent ; 

So  you  reward  my  love  thus  meant, 

Even  as  ye  list. 


114 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


To  feign,  or  fable  is  not  my  mind, 

Nor  to  refuse  such  as  I find ; 

But  as  a lamb  of  humble  kind. 

Or  bird  in  cage  to  be  assign’d. 

Even  as  ye  list. 

When  all  the  flock  is  come  and  gone 
Mine  eye  and  heart  agree’th  in  one, 
Hath  chosen  you,  only,  alone. 

To  be  my  joy,  or  else  my  moan, 

Even  as  ye  list. 

Joy,  if  pity  appeav  in  place ; 

Moan,  if  disdain  do  shew  his  face, 

Yet  crave  I not  as  in  this  case. 

But  as  ye  lead  to  follow  the  trace, 

Even  as  ye  list. 

Some  in  words  much  love  can  feign ; 
And  some  for  words  give  words  again : 
Thus  words  for  words  in  words  remain. 
And  yet  at  last  words  do  obtain 
Even  as  ye  list. 

To  crave  in  words  I will  eschew. 

And  love  in  deed  I will  ensue ; 

It  is  my  mind  both  whole  and  true. 
And  for  my  truth  I pray  you  rue 
Even  as  ye  list. 

Dear  heart ! I bid  your  heart  farewell. 
With  better  heart  than  tongue  can  tell ; 
Yet  take  this  tale,  as  true  as  gospel. 

Ye  may  my  life  save  or  expel 
Even  as  ye  list. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


115 


HE  PROMISETH  TO  REMAIN  FAITHFUL 
WHATEVER  FORTUNE  BETIDE. 

Sometime  I sigh,  sometime  I sing ; 
Sometime  I laugh,  sometime  mourning 
As  one  in  doubt,  this  is  my  saying ; 

Have  I displeas’d  you  in  any  thing? 

Alack ! what  aileth  you  to  be  griev’d  ? 
Right  sorry  am  I that  ye  be  moved. 

I am  your  own,  if  truth  be  prov’d ; 

And  by  your  displeasure  as  one  mischiev’d. 

When  ye  be  merry  then  am  I glad ; 
When  ye  be  sorry  then  am  I sad; 

Such  grace  or  fortune  I would  I had 
You  for  to  please  howe’er  I were  bestad. 

When  ye  be  merry  why  should  I care  ? 
Ye  are  my  joy,  and  my  w^elfare, 

I will  you  love,  I will  not  spare 
Into  your  presence,  as  far  as  I dare. 

All  my  poor  heart,  and  my  love  true, 
While  life  doth  last  I give  it  you  ; 

And  you  to  serve  with  service  due, 

And  never  to  change  you  for  no  new. 


116 


SIK  THOMAS  'WYATT’s  POEMS. 


THE  EAITHEUL  LOVER  'VVISHETH  ATX  EVIL 

MAY  BEFALL  HIM  IF  HE  FORSAKE  HIS  LADY. 

The  knot  whicli  first  my  heart  did  strain, 
When  that  your  servant  I became, 

Doth  bind  me  still  for  to  remain, 

Always  your  own  as  now  I am  ; 

And  if  you  find  that  I do  feign, 

With  just  judgment  myself  I damn. 

To  have  disdain. 

If  other  thought  in  me  do  grow 
But  still  to  love  you  steadfastly ; 

If  that  the  proof  do  not  well  shew 
That  I am  yours  assuredly ; 

Let  ev’ry  wealth  turn  me  to  woe. 

And  you  to  be  continually 
My  chiefest  foe. 

If  other  love,  or  new  request, 

Do  seize  my  heart,  but  only  this ; 

Or  if  within  my  wearied  breast 
Be  hid  one  thought  that  means  amiss, 

I do  desire  that  mine  unrest 
May  still  increase,  and  I to  miss 
That  I love  best. 

If  in  my  love  there  be  one  spot 
Of  false  deceit  or  doubleness  ; 

Or  if  I mind  to  slip  this  knot 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


117 


By  want  of  faith  or  steadfastness ; 

Let  all  my  service  be  forgot, 

And  when  I would  have  chief  redress, 
Esteem  me  not. 

But  if  that  I consume  in  pain 
Of  burning  sighs  and  fervent  love  ; 

And  daily  seek  none  other  gain, 

But  with  my  deed  these  words  to  prove ; 
Me  think  of  right  I should  obtain 
That  ye  would  mind  for  to  remove 
Your  great  disdain. 

And  for  the  end  of  this  my  song. 

Unto  your  hands  I do  submit 
My  deadly  grief,  and  pains  so  strong 
Which  in  my  heart  be  firmly  shytt. 

And  when  ye  list,  redress  my  wrong : 
Since  well  ye  know  this  painful  fit 
Hath  last  too  long. 


OF  FORTUNE,  LOVE,  AND  FANTASY. 

It  was  my  choice ; it  was  no  chance 
That  brought  my  heart  in  other’s  hold ; 
Whereby  it  hath  had  sufferance 
Longer,  perdie,  than  reason  would. 

Since  I it  bound  where  it  was  free 
Methinks,  y-v/is,  of  right  it  should 
Accepted  be. 


118 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


Accepted  be  without  refuse ; 

Unless  that  Fortune  have  the  power 
All  right  of  love  for  to  abuse. 

For  as  they  say  one  happy  hour 
May  more  prevail  than  right  or  might ; 
If  Fortune  then  list  for  to  lower, 

What  ’vaileth  right  ? 
What  Vaileth  right  if  this  be  true  ! 
Then  trust  to  chance,  and  go  by  guess ; 
Then  who  so  loveth  may  well  go  sue 
Uncertain  hope  for  his  redress. 

Yet  some  would  say  assuredly 
Thou  mayst  appeal  for  thy  release 
To  Fantasy. 

To  Fantasy  pertains  to  choose. 

All  this  I know : for  F antasy 
First  unto  love  did  me  induce ; 

But  yet  I know  as  steadfastly. 

That  if  love  have  no  faster  knot, 

So  nice  a choice  slips  suddenly ; 

It  lasteth  not. 

It  lasteth  not,  that  stands  by  change ; 
Fancy  doth  change  ; Fortune  is  frail; 
Both  these  to  please  the  way  is  strange. 
Therefore  methinks  best  to  prevail. 
There  is  no  way  that  is  so  just 
As  truth  to  lead ; the  other  fail. 

And  thereto  trust. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  T^OEMS. 


119 


DESERTED  BY  HIS  MISTRESS,  HE 

RENOUNCETH  ALL  JOY  FOR  EVER. 

Heart  oppress’d  with  desperate  thought, 
Is  forced  ever  to  lament ; 

Which  now  in  me  so  far  hath  wrought, 

That  needs  to  it  I must  consent : 

Wherefore  all  joy  I do  refuse. 

And  cruel  will  thereof  accuse. 

If  cruel  will  had  not  been  guide. 

Despair  in  me  had  [found]  no  place ; 

For  my  true  meaning  she  well  espied; 

Yet  for  all  that  would  give  no  grace ; 
Wherefore  all  joy  I do  refuse. 

And  cruel  will  thereof  accuse. 

She  might  well  see,  and  yet  would  not ; 
And  may  daily,  if  that  she  will ; 

How  painful  is  my  hapless  lot ; 

Joined  with  despair  me  for  to  spill; 
Wherefore  all  joy  I do  refuse, 

And  cruel  will  thereof  accuse. 


THAT  NO  WORDS  MAY  EXPRESS  THE  CRAFTY 
TRAINS  OF  LOVE. 

Full  well  it  may  be  seen 
To  such  as  understand. 

How  some  there  be  that  ween 
They  have  their  wealth  at  hand : 

Through  love’s  abused  band 


120 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


But  little  do  tliej  see 
The  abuse  wherein  they  be. 

Of  love  there  is  a kind . 

Which  kindleth  by  abuse ; 

As  in  a feeble  mind 
Whom  fancy  may  induce 
By  love’s  deceitful  use, 

To  follow  the  fond  lust 
And  proof  of  a vain  trust. 

As  I myself  may  say, 

By  trial  of  the  same  ; 

No  wight  can  well  bewray 
That  falsehood  love  can  frame ; 

I say,  ’twixt  grief  and  game. 
There  is  no  living  man 
That  knows  the  craft  love  can. 

For  love  so  Avell  can  feign 
To  favour  for  the  while ; 

That  such  as  seeks  the  gain 
Are  served  with  the  guile ; 

And  some  can  this  concile 
To  give  the  simple  leave 
Themselves  for  to  deceive. 

What  thing  may  more  declare 
Of  love  the  crafty  kind. 

Than  see  the  wise  so  ware, 

In  love  to  be  so  blind ; 

If  so  it  be  assign’d  ; 

Let  them  enjoy  the  gain. 

That  thinks  it  worth  the  pain. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT'S  ■ POEMS. 


121 


THAT  THE  POWER  OF  LOVE  EXCUSETH 
THE  FOLLY  OF  LOVING. 

Since  love  is  such  as  that  ye  wot 
Cannot  always  be  wisely  used ; 

I say  therefore  then  blame  me  not, 

Though  I therein  have  been  abused. 

For  as  with  cause  I am  accused, 

Guilty  I grant  such  was  my  lot ; 

And  though  it  cannot  be  excused. 

Yet  let  such  folly  be  forgot. 

For  in  my  years  of  reckless  youth 
Methought  the  power  of  love  so  great ; 

That  to  his  laws  I bound  my  truth. 

And  to  my  will  there  was  no  let. 

Me  list  no  more  so  far  to  fet ; 

Such  fruit ! lo  ! as  of  love  ensu’th ; 

The  gain  was  small  that  was  to  get, 

And  of  the  loss  the  less  the  ruth. 

And  few  there  is  but  first  or  last, 

A time  in  love  once  shall  they  have ; 

And  glad  I am  my  time  is  past. 

Henceforth  my  freedom  to  with  save. 

Now  in  my  heart  there  shall  I grave 
The  granted  grace  that  now  I taste ; 
Thanked  be  fortune  that  me  gave 
So  fair  a gift,  so  sure  and  fast. 


122 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


Now  such  as  have  me  seen  ere  this, 
When  youth  in  me  set  forth  his  kind ; 
And  folly  framed  my  thought  amiss, 
The  fault  whereof  now  well  I find ; 

Lo  ! since  that  so  it  is  assign’d. 

That  unto  each  a time  there  is. 

Then  blame  the  lot  that  led  my  mind. 
Some  time  to  live  in  love’s  bliss. 

But  from  henceforth  I do  protest. 
By  proof  of  that  that  I have  past. 
Shall  never  cease  within  my  breast 
The  power  of  Love  so  late  outcast : 
The  knot  thereof  is  knit  full  fast. 

And  I thereto  so  sure  profess’d 
For  evermore  with  me  to  last 
The  power  wherein  I am  possess’d. 


THE  DOUBTFUL  LOVER 

RESOLVETH  TO  BE  ASSURED  WHETHER  HE  IS  TO  LIVE 
IN  JOY  OR  WOE. 

Lo  ! how  I seek  and  sue  to  have 
That  no  man  hath,  and  may  be  had ; 
There  is  [no]  more  but  sink  or  save. 

And  bring  this  doubt  to  good  or  bad. 

To  live  in  sorrows  always  sad, 

I like  not  so  to  linger  forth ; 


sm  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  * POEMS.  123 

Hap  evil  or  good  I shall  be  glad 
To  take  that  comes,  as  well  in  worth. 

Should  I sustain  this  great  distress, 

Still  wandering  forth  thus  to  and  fro, 

In  dreadful  hope  to  hold  my  peace. 

And  feed  myself  with  secret  woe  ? 

Nay ! nay ! certain,  I will  not  so  ! 

But  sure  I shall  myself  apply 
To  put  in  proof  this  doubt  to  know. 

And  rid  this  danger  readily. 

I shall  assay  by  secret^  suit 
To  shew  the  mind  of  mine  intent ; 

And  my  deserts  shall  give  such  fruit 
As  with  my  heart  my  words  he  meant ; 

So  by  the  proof  of  this  consent 
Soon  out  of  doubt  I shall  be  sure, 

For  to  rejoice,  or  to  repent. 

In  joy,  or  pain  for  to  endure. 


OF  THE  EXTREME  TORMENT  ENDURED  BY 
THE  UNHAPPY  LOVER. 

My  love  is  like  unto  th’  eternal  fire. 

And  I,  as  those  which  therein  do  remain ; 
"Whose  grievous  pains  is  hut  their  great  desire 
To  see  the  sight  which  they  may  not  attain : 
So  in  hell’s  heat  myself  I feel  to  be. 


124 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


That  am  restrain’d  bj  great  extremity, 

The  sight  /of  her  which  is  so  dear  to  me. 

O ! puissant  Love  ! and  power  of  great  avail ! 
By  whom  hell  may  be  felt  ere  death  assail ! 


HE  BIDDETH  EAREWELL  TO  HIS  UNKIND 
MISTRESS. 

Since  so  ye  please  to  hear  me  plain, 

And  that  ye  do  rejoice  my  smart; 

Me  list  no  longer  to  remain 
To  such  as  be  so  overthwart : 

But  cursed  be  that  cruel  heart 
Which  hath  procur’d  a careless  mind. 

For  me  and  mine  unfeigned  smart; 

And  forceth  me  such  faults  to  find. 

More  than  too  much  I am  assured 
Of  thine  intent,  whereto  to  trust ; 

A speedless  proof  I have  endured ; 

And  now  I leave  it  to  them  that  lust. 


HE  REPENTETH  THAT  HE  KAT>  EVER  LOVED. 

Now  must  I learn  to  live  at  rest. 

And  wean  me  of  my  will ; 

For  I repent  where  I was  prest 
My  fancy  to  fulfil. 


sm  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  POEMS. 


125 


I may  no  longer  more  endure 
My  wonted  life  to  lead ; 

But  I must  learn  to  put  in  ure 
The  change  of  womanhed. 

I may  not  see  my  service  long 
Kewarded  in  such  wise ; 

Nor  I may  not  sustain  such  wrong 
That  ye  my  love  despise. 

I may  not  sigh  in  sorrow  deep, 

Nor  wail  the  want  of  love  ; 

Nor  I may  neither  crouch  nor  creep 
Where  it  doth  not  behove. 

But  I of  force  must  needs  forsake 
My  faith  so  fondly  set ; 

And  from  henceforth  must  undertake 
Such  folly  to  forget. 

Now  must  I seek  some  other  ways 
Myself  for  to  withsave  ; 

And  as  I trust  by  mine  essays 
Some  remedy  to  have. 

I ask  none  other  remedy 
To  recompense  my  wrong ; 

But  once  to  have  the  liberty 
That  I have  lack’d  so  long. 


126 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


THE  LOVEE  BESEECHETH  HIS  MISTRESS  NOT 

TO  FORGET  HIS  STEADFAST  FAITH  AND  TRUE  INTENT. 

F ORGET  not  yet  the  tried  intent 
Of  such  a truth  as  I have  meant ; 

My  great  travail  so  gladly  spent, 

Forget  not  yet ! 

Forget  not  yet  when  first  began 
The  weary  life  ye  know,  since  whan 
The  suit,  the  service  none  tell  can ; 

Forget  not  yet ! 

Forget  not  yet  the  great  assays. 

The  cruel  wrong,  the  scornful  ways, 

The  painful  patience  in  delays, 

F orget  not  yet ! 

Forget  not ! oh ! forget  not  this. 

How  long  ago  hath  been,  and  is  ' 

The  mind  that  never  meant  amiss, 

Forget  not  yet ! 

Forget  not  then  thine  own  approv’d. 

The  which  so  long  hath  thee  so  lov’d. 

Whose  steadfast  faith  yet  never  mov’d : 
Forget  not  this ! 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt's  poems. 


127 


HE  BEWAILS  THE  PAIN  HE  ENDURES  WHEN 

BANISHED  FROM  THE  MISTRESS  OF  HIS  HEART. 

O ! MISERABLE  sorrow,  witliouten  cure  ! 

If  it  please  thee,  lo ! to  have  me  thus  suffer, 

At  least  yet  let  her  know  what  I endure, 

And  this  my  last  voice  carry  thou  thither. 
Where  lived  my  hope,  now  dead  for  ever ; 

For  as  ill  grievous  is  my  banishment. 

As  was  my  pleasure  when  she  was  present. 


HE  COMPARES  HIS  SUEEERINGS  TO  THOSE 
OF  TANTALUS. 

The  fruit  of  all  the  service  that  I serve 
Despair  doth  reap ; such  hapless  hap  have  I. 

But  though  he  have  no  power  to  make  me  swerve, 
Yet  by  the  fire  for  cold  I feel  I die. 

In  paradise  for  hunger  still  I sterve. 

And  in  the  flood  for  thirst  to  death  I dry ; 

So  Tantalus  am  I,  and  in  worse  pain. 

Amidst  my  help  that  helpless  doth  remain. 


128 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATT’s  POEMS. 


THAT  NOTHING  MAY  ASSUAGE  HIS  PAIN 
SAVE  ONLY  HIS  LADY^S  FAVOUR. 

If  with  complaint  the  pain  might  be  express’d 
That  inwardly  doth  cause  me  sigh  and  groan ; 
Your  hard  heart,  and  your  cruel  breast 
Should  sigh  and  plain  for  my  unrest ; 

And  though  it  were  of  stone, 

Yet  should  remorse  cause  it  relent  and  moan. 

But  since  it  is  so  far  out  of  measure, 

That  with  my  words  I can  it  not  contain, 

My  only  trust ! my  heart’s  treasure  ! 

Alas  ! why  do  I still  endure 
This  restless  smart  and  pain  ? 

Since  if  ye  list  ye  may  my  woe  restrain. 


THE  LOVER  PRAYETH 

THAT  HIS  LONG  SUFFERINGS  MAY  AT  LENGTH  FIND 
RECOMPENSE. 

Ye  know  my  heart,  my  Lady  dear ! 

That  since  the  time  I was  your  thrall 
I have  been  yours  both  whole  and  clear, 
Though  my  reward  hath  been  but  small; 

So  am  I yet,  and  more  than  all. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


129 


And  ye  know  well  how  I have  serv’d, 
As  if  ye  prove  it  shall  appear, 

How  well,  how  long, 

How  faithfully ! 

And  suffered  wrong, 

How  patiently ! 

Then  since  that  I have  never  swerv’d. 
Let  not  my  pains  be  undeserv’d. 

Ye  know  also,  though  ye  say  nay, 
That  you  alone  are  my  desire ; 

And  you  alone  it  is  that  may 
Assuage  my  fervent  flaming  fire. 
Succour  me  then  I you  require ! 

Ye  know  it  were  a just  request. 

Since  ye  do  cause  my  heat,  I say, 

If  that  I burn. 

It  will  ye  warm, 

And  not  to  turn. 

All  to  my  harm, 

Lending  such  flame  from  frozen  breast 
Against  nature  for  my  unrest. 

And  I know  well  how  scornfully 
Ye  have  mista’en  my  true  intent ; 

And  hitherto  how  wrongfully, 

I have  found  cause  for  to  repent. 

But  if  your  heart  doth  not  relent, 

Since  I do  know  that  this  ye  know, 

Ye  shall  slay  me  all  wilfully. 

For  me,  and  mine, 

And  all  I have. 


9 


130 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


Ye  may  assign, 

To  spill  or  save. 

Why  are  ye  then  so  cruel  foe 
Unto  your  own,  that  loves  you  so  ? 


HE  DESCRIBETH  THE  CEASELESS  TORMENTS 
OF  LOVE. 

Since  you  will  needs  that  I shall  sing, 

Take  it  in  worth  such  as  I have ; 

Plenty  of  plaint,  moan,  and  mourning, 

In  deep  despair  and  deadly  pain. 

Bootless  for  boot,  crying  to  crave ; 

To  crave  in  vain. 

Such  hammers  work  within  my  head 
That  sound  nought  else  unto  my  ears. 

But  fast  at  board,  and  wake  a-bed : 

Such  tune  the  temper  to  my  song 
To  wail  my  wrong,  that  I want  tears 
To  wail  my  wrong. 

Death  and  despair  afore  my  face. 

My  days  decay,  my  grief  doth  grow ; 

The  cause  thereof  is  in  this  place. 

Whom  cruelty  doth  still  constrain 
For  to  rejoice,  though  I be  woe. 

To  hear  me  plain. 

A broken  lute,  untuned  strings. 

With  such  a song  may  well  bear  part. 

That  neither  pleaseth  him  thaf  sings. 


sm  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  I3l 

Nor  them  that  hear,  but  her  alone 
That  with  her  heart  would  strain  my  heart 
To  hear  it  groan. 

If  it  grieve  you  to  hear  this  same, 

That  you  do  feel  but  in  my  voice. 

Consider  then  what  pleasant  game 
I do  sustain  in  every  part. 

To  cause  me  sing  or  to  rejoice 
Within  my  heart. 


THAT  THE  SEASON  OF  ENJOYMENT  IS  SHORT, 

AND  SHOULD  NOT  PASS  BY  NEGLECTED. 

Me  list  no  more  to  sing 
Of  love,  nor  of  such  thing. 

How  sore  that  it  me  wring ; 

For  what  I sung  or  spake. 

Men  did  my  songs  mistake- 
My  songs  were  too  diffuse  ; 

They  made  folk  to  muse ; 

Therefore  me  to  excuse, 

They  shall  be  sung  more  plain, 

Neither  of  joy  nor  pain. 

What  vaileth  then  to  skip 
At  fruit  over  the  lip 


For  fruit  withouten  taste 
Doth  nought  but  rot  and  waste. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

What  vaileth  under  kay 
To  keep  treasure  alway, 

That  never  shall  see  day. 

If  it  be  not  used, 

It  is  but  abused. 

What  vaileth  the  flower 
To  stand  still  and  wither ; 

If  no  man  it  savour 
It  serves  only  for  sight, 

And  fadeth  towards  night. 

Therefore  fear  not  to  assay 
To  gather,  ye  that  may. 

The  flower  that  this  day 
Is  fresher  than  the  next. 

Mark  well  I say  this  text : 

Let  not  the  fruit  be  lost 
That  is  desired  most ; 

Delight  shall  quite  the  cost. 

If  it  be  ta’en  in  time 
Small  labour  is  to  climb. 

And  as  for  such  treasure 
That  maketh  thee  the  richer, 
And  no  deal  the  poorer 
WTien  it  is  given  or  lent, 
Methinks  it  were  well  spent. 

If  this  be  under  mist. 

And  not  well  plainly  wist. 
Understand  me  wLo  list. 

For  I reek  not  a bean ; 

I wot  what  I do  mean. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


133 


THAT  THE  PAIN  HE  ENDURED  SHOULD  NOT 
MAKE  HIM  CEASE  PROM  LOVING. 

The  joy  so  short,  alas  ! the  pain  so  near, 

The  way  so  long,  the  departure  so  smart ; 

The  first  sight,  alas ! I bought  too  dear, 

That  so  suddenly  now  from  hence  must  part. 

The  body  gone  yet  remain  shall  the  heart 
With  her,  the  which  for  me  salt  tears  doth  rain ; 
And  shall  not  change  till  that  we  meet  again. 

The  time  doth  pass,  yet  shall  not  my  love ; 
Though  I be  far,  always  my  heart  is  near. 

Though  other  change  yet  will  not  I remove ; 
Though  other  care  not,  yet  love  I will  and  fear ; 
Though  other  hate,  yet  will  I love  my  dear ; 
Though  other  will  of  lightness  say  ‘ Adieu,’ 

Yet  will  I be  found  steadfast  and  true. 

When  other  laugh,  alas ! then  do  I weep ; 
When  other  sing,  then  do  I wail  and  cry ; 

When  other  run,  perforced  I am  to  creep ; 

When  other  dance,  in  sorrow  I do  lie ; 

When  other  joy,  for  pain  well  near  I die ; 

Thus  brought  from  wealth,  alas ! to  endless  pain. 
That  undeserved,  causeless  to  remain. 


134 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


THE  COMPLAINT  OF  A DESERTED  LOVER, 

How  should  I 
Be  so  pleasant, 

In  my  semblant, 

As  my  fellows  be  ? 

Not  long  ago, 

It  chanced  so. 

As  I did  walk  alone ; 

I heard  a man. 

That  now  and  than 
Himself  did  thus  bemoan : 

^ Alas  ! ’ he  said, 

‘ I am  betray’d. 

And  utterly  undone ; 

Whom  I did  trust. 

And  think  so  just. 

Another  man  hath  won. 

‘ My  service  due. 

And  heart  so  true. 

On  her  I did  bestow ; 

I never  meant 
For  to  repent. 

In  wealth,  nor  yet  in  woe. 

^ Each  western  wind 
Hath  turned  her  mind. 

And  blown  it  clean  away ; 

Thereby  my  wealth. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  Roems. 


135 


My  mirth  and  health, 

Are  driven  to  great  decay. 

‘ F ortune  did  smile 
A right  short  while, 

And  never  said  me  nay ; 
With  pleasant  plays. 

And  joyful  days. 

My  time  to  pass  away. 

^ Alas  ! alas  ! 

The  time  so  was. 

So  never  shall  it  be. 

Since  she  is  gone. 

And  I alone 

Am  left  as  you  may  see. 

‘ Where  is  the  oath  ? 
Where  is  the  troth  ? 

That  she  to  me  did  give  ? 
Such  feigned  words. 

With  sely  bourds. 

Let  no  wise  man  believe. 

‘ For  even  as  I, 

Thus  wofully. 

Unto  myself  complain : 

If  ye  then  trust. 

Needs  learn  ye  must. 

To  sing  my  song  in  vain. 

‘ How  should  I 
Be  so  pleasant. 

In  my  semblant. 

As  my  fellows  be  ? ’ 


136 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems, 


THAT  FAITH  IS  DEAD,  AND  TRUE  LOYE 
DISREGARDED. 

What  should  I say? 

Since  Faith  is  dead. 

And  Truth  away 
From  you  is  fled? 

Should  I be  led 
With  doubleness  ? 

Nay!  nay!  Mistress. 

I promis’d  you, 

And  you  promis’d  me, 

To  be  as  true, 

As  I would  be. 

But  since  I see 
Your  double  heart. 

Farewell  my  part ! 

Thought  for  to  take, 

It  is  not  my  mind  ; 

But  to  forsake 
[One  so  unkind ;] 

And  as  I find. 

So  will  I trust ; 

Farewell,  unjust! 

Can  ye  say  nay, 

But  that  you  said 
That  I alway 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s' POEMS. 


137 


Should  be  obey’d  ? 
And  thus  betray’d, 
Or  that  I wist ! 
Farewell,  unkist! 


THE  LOVER  COMPLAINETH  THAT  HIS 

FAITHFUL  HEART  AND  TRUE  MEANING  HAD  NEVER  MET 
WITH  JUST  REWARD. 

Give  place ! all  ye  that  doth  rejoice. 

And  love’s  pangs  hath  clean  forgot. 

Let  them  draw  near  and  hear  my  voice 
Whom  Love  doth  force  in  pains  to  fret ; 

For  all  of  plaint  my  song  is  set. 

Which  long  hath  served  and  nought  can  get. 

A faithful  heart  so  truly  meant. 

Rewarded  is  full  slenderly ; 

A steadfast  faith  with  good  intent 
Is  recompensed  craftily ; 

Such  hap  doth  hap  unhappily 
To  them  that  mean  but  honestly. 

With  humble  suit  I have  essayed 
To  turn  her  cruel  hearted  mind ; 

But  for  reward  I am  delayed. 

And  to  my  wealth  her  ears  be  blind. 

Lo ! thus  by  chance  I am  assign’d 
With  steadfast  love  to  serve  the  unkind. 


138 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


What  vaileth  truth,  or  steadfastness, 

Or  still  to  serve  without  repreef ! 

What  vaileth  faith  or  gentleness, 

Where  cruelty  doth  reign  as  chief! 

Alas  ! there  is  no  greater  grief 
Than  for  to  love,  and  lack  relief. 

Care  doth  constrain  me  to  complain 
Of  Love,  and  her  uncertainty, 

Which  granteth  nought  but  great  disdain, 
For  loss  of  all  my  liberty. 

Alas  I this  is  extremity. 

For  love  to  find  such  cruelty. 

For  love  to  find  such  cruelty 
Alas ! it  is  a careful  lot ; 

And  for  to  void  such  mockery 
There  is  no  way  but  slip  the  knot ! 

The  gain  so  cold,  the  pain  so  hot! 

Praise  it  who  list,  I like  it  not. 

— • — 

THE  FORSAKEN  LOYER 

CONSOLETII  HIMSELF  AVITIT  EEAIEMBRANCE  OF  PAST 
HAPPINESS. 

Spite  hath  no  power  to  make  me  sad. 
Nor  scornfulness  to  make  me  plain. 

It  doth  suffice  that  once  I had, 

And  so  to  leave  it  is  no  pain. 

Let  them  frown  on  that  least  doth  gain. 
Who  did  rejoice  must  needs  be  glad ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


139 


And  though  with  words  thou  wee’nst  to  reign, 
It  doth  suffice  that  once  I had. 

Since  that  in  checks  thus  overthwart, 

And  coyly  looks  thou  dost  delight ; 

It  doth  suffice  that  mine  thou  wert, 

Though  change  hath  put  thy  faith  to  flight. 

Alas  ! it  is  a peevish  spite. 

To  yield  thyself  and  then  to  part ; 

But  since  thou  force  thy  faith  so  light. 

It  doth  suffice  that  mine  thou  wert. 

And  since  thy  love  doth  thus  decline. 

And  in  thy  heart  such  hate  doth  grow ; 

It  doth  suffice  that  thou  wert  mine. 

And  with  good  will  I quite  it  so. 

Sometime  my  friend,  farewell  my  foe. 

Since  thou  change  I am  not  thine ; 

But  for  relief  of  all  my  woe. 

It  doth  suffice  that  thou  wert  mine. 

Praying  you  all  that  hear  this  song. 

To  judge  no  wight,  nor  none  to  blame  ; 

It  doth  suffice  she  doth  me  wrong. 

And  that  herself  doth  know  the  same. 

And  though  she  change  it  is  no  shame. 
Their  kind  it  is,  and  hath  been  long ; 

Yet  I protest  she  hath  no  name  ; 

It  doth  suffice  she  doth  me  wrong. 


140 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


HE  COMPLAINETH  TO  HIS  HEART 

THAT  HAVING  ONCE  RECOVERED  HIS  FREEDOM  HE  HAD 
AGAIN  BECOME  THRALL  TO  LOVE. 

Ah  ! my  heart,  what  aileth  thee  ? 

To  set  so  light  my  liberty ! 

Making  me  bond  when  I was  free : 

Ah ! my  heart,  what  aileth  thee  ? 
When  thou  were  rid  from  all  distress, 

Void  of  all  pain  and  pensiveness, 

To  choose  again  a new  mistress ; 

Ah ! my  heart,  what  aileth  thee  ? 
When  thou  were  well  thou  could  not  hold : 

To  turn  agQ,in,  that  were  too  bold ; 

Thus  to  renew  my  sorrows  old. 

Ah ! my  heart,  what  aileth  thee  ? 
Thou  know’st  full  well  that  but ‘of  late, 

I was  turned  out  of  Love’s  gate : 

And  now  to  guide  me  to  this  mate ! 

Ah ! my  heart,  what  aileth  thee  ? 
I hop’d  full  well  all  had  been  done ; 

But  now  my  hope  is  ta’en  and  won ; 

To  my  torment  to  yield  so  soon. 

Ah ! my  heart,  what  aileth  thee  ? 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


141 


HE  PROFESSETH  INDIFFERENCE. 

Hate  whom  ye  list,  for  I care  not ; 
Love  whom  ye  list,  and  spare  not ; 

Do  what  ye  list,  and  dread  not ; 

Think  what  ye  list,  I fear  not ; 

For  as  for  me  I am  not ; 

But  even  as  one  that  recks  not, 
Whether  ye  hate  or  hate  not, 

For  in  your  love  I dote  not ; 
Wherefore  I pray  you  forget  not ; 
But  love  whom  ye  list,  for  I care  not. 


HE  REJOICETH  THAT  HE  HAD  BROICEN 
THE  SNARES  OF  LOVE. 

Tangled  I was  in  Love’s  snare. 
Oppressed  with  pain,  torment  with  care; 
Of  grief  right  sure,  of  joy  full  bare. 

Clean  in  despair  by  cruelty  ; 

But  ha ! ha ! ha ! full  well  is  me. 

For  I am  now  at  liberty. 

The  woful  days  so  full  of  pain. 

The  weary  night  all  spent  in  vain. 

The  labour  lost  for  so  small  gain. 


142 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


To  write  them  all  it  will  not  be ; 

But  ha ! ha ! ha ! full  well  is  me. 

For  I am  now  at  liberty. 

Every  thing  that  fair  doth  shew, 

When  proof  is  made  it  proveth  not  so ; 

But  turneth  mirth  to  bitter  woe, 

Which  in  this  case  full  well  I see ; 

But  ha ! ha ! ha ! full  well  is  me, 

For  I am  now  at  liberty. 

Too  great  desire  was  my  guide. 

And  wanton  will  went  by  my  side, 

Hope  ruled  still  and  made  me  bide, 

Of  Love’s  craft  the  extremity. 

But  ha ! ha ! ha ! full  well  is  me, 

For  I am  now  at  liberty. 

With  feigned  words,  which  were  but  wind, 
To  long  delays  I was  assign’d ; 

Her  wily  looks  my  wits  did  blind ; 

Thus  as  she  would  I did  agree. 

But  ha ! ha ! ha ! full  well  is  me. 

For  I am  now  at  liberty. 

Was  never  bird  tangled  in  lime 
That  brake  away  in  better  time. 

Than  I,  that  rotten  boughs  did  climb. 

And  had  no  hurt  but  scaped  free. 

Now  ha ! ha ! ha ! full  well  is  me. 

For  I am  now  at  liberty. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  . POEMS. 


143 


THE  LOVER  PRAYETH 

THAT  HIS  lady’s  HEART  MIGHT  BE  ENFLAMED  'WITH 
EQUAL  AFFECTION. 

Love  doth  again 
Put  me  to  pain, 

And  yet  all  is  but  lost. 

I serve  in  vain, 

And  am  certain. 

Of  all  misliked  most. 

Both  heat  and  cold 
Doth  so  me  hold. 

And  comber  so  my  mind ; 

That  whom  I should 
Speak  and  behold. 

It  driveth  me  still  behind. 

My  wits  be  past. 

My  life  doth  waste. 

My  comfort  is  exiled ; 

And  I in  haste. 

Am  like  to  taste 

How  love  hath  me  beguiled. 

Unless  that  right 
May  in  her  sight 
Obtain  pity  and  grace  ; 

Why  should  a wight 
Have  beauty  bright. 

If  mercy  have  no  place. 


144 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


Yet  I,  alas  ! 

Am  in  such  case ; 

That  back  I cannot  go ; 

But  still  forth  trace 
A patient  pace, 

And  suffer  secret  woe. 

For  with  the  wind 
My  fired  mind 
Doth  still  inflame ; 

And  she  unkind 
That  did  me  bind, 

Doth  turn  it  all  to  game. 

Yet  can  no  pain 
Make  me  refrain. 

Nor  here  and  there  to  range ; 

I shall  retain 

Hope  to  obtain 

Her  heart  that  is  so  strange. 

But  I require 
The  painful  fire. 

That  oft  doth  make  me  sweat ; 
For  all  my  ire, 

With  like  desire. 

To  give  her  heart  a heat. 

Then  she  shall  prove 
How  I her  love. 

And  what  I have  offer’d ; 
Which  should  her  move. 

For  to  remove 

The  pains  that  I have  suffer’d. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  VOEMS. 


145 


And  better  fee 
Than  she  gave  me, 

She  shall  of  me  attain  ; 
For  whereas  she 
Shewed  cruelty, 

She  shall  my  heart  obtain. 


THE  DISDAINEUL  LADY  REFUSING  TO  HEAR 

HER  lover’s  suit,  HE  RESOLVETH  TO  FORSAKE  HER. 

Now  all  of  change 
Must  be  my  song, 

. And  from  my  bond  now  must  I break ; 

Since  she  so  strange. 

Unto  my  wrong, 

Doth  stop  her  ears,  to  hear  me  speak. 

Yet  none  doth  know 
So  well  as  she. 

My  grief,  which  can  have  no  restraint ; 

That  fain  would  follow. 

Now  needs  must  flee. 

For  fault  of  ear  unto  my  plaint. 

I am  not  he 
By  false  assays. 

Nor  feigned  faith  can  bear  in  hand ; 

Though  most  I see 

That  such  always 

Are  best  for  to  be  understand. 

10 


14G 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  toems. 


But  I that  truth 
Hath  always  meant, 

Doth  still  proceed  to  serve  in  vain : 
Desire  pursueth 
My  time  mispent, 

And  doth  not  pass  upon  my  pain. 

Of  Fortune’s  might 
That  each  compels, 

And  me  the  most,  it  doth  suffice ; 

Now  for  my  right 

To  ask  nought  else 

But  to  withdraw  this  enterprise. 

And  for  the  gain 
Of  that  good  hour. 

Which  of  my  woe  shall  be  relief ; 

I shall  refrain 
By  painful  power. 

The  thing  that  most  hath  been  my  grief. 

I shall  not  miss 
To  exercise 

The  help  thereof  which  doth>  me  teach. 
That  after  this 
In  any  wise 

To  keep  right  within  my  reach. 

And  she  unjust 
Which  feareth  not 
In  this  her  fame  to  be  defiled. 

Yet  once  I trust 
Shall  be  my  lot 

To  quite  the  craft  that  me  beguiled. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


147 


THE  ABSENT  LOVER  EINDETH  ALL  HIS 
PAINS  REDOUBLED, 

Absence,  absenting  causeth  me  to  complain, 

My  sorrowful  complaints  abiding  in  distress ; 

And  departing  most  privy  increaseth  my  pain, 

Thus  live  I uncomforted  wrapped  all  in  heaviness. 

In  heaviness  I am  wrapped,  devoid  of  all  solace, 
Neither  pastime  nor  pleasure  can  revive  my  dull  wit, 
My  spirits  be  all  taken,  and  death  doth  me  menace. 
With  his  fatal  knife  the  thread  for  to  kit. 

For  to  cut  the  thread  of  this  wretched  life. 

And  shortly  bring  me  out  of  this  case  ; 

I see  it  availeth  not,  yet  must  I be  pensive, 

Since  fortune  from  me  hath  turned  her  face. 

Her  face  she  hath  turned  with  countenance  con- 
trarious. 

And  clean  from  her  presence  she  hath  exiled  me. 

In  sorrow  remaining  as  a man  most  dolorous. 
Exempt  from  all  pleasure  and  worldly  felicity. 

All  worldly  felicity  now  am  I private. 

And  left  in  desart  most  solitarily. 

Wandering  all  about  as  one  without  mate; 

My  death  approacheth ; what  remedy ! 

What  remedy,  alas ! to  rejoice  my  woful  heart. 
With  sighs  suspiring  most  ruefully ; 

Now  welcome  ! I am  ready  to  depart ; 

Farewell  all  pleasure ! welcome  pain  and  smart ! 


148  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


HE  SEEKETH  COMFORT  IN  PATIENCE. 

Patience  ! for  I have  wrong 
And  dare  not  shew  wherein ; 

Patience  shall  be  my  song ; 

Since  Truth  can  nothing  win. 

Patience  then  for  this  fit ; 

Hereafter  comes  not  yet. 


OF  THE  POWER  OF  LOVE  OYER  THE 
YIELDEN  LOVER. 

Will  ye  see  what  wonders  Love  hath 
Then  come  and  look  at  me.  [wrought  ? 

There  need  no  where  else  to  be  sought, 

In  me  ye  may  them  see. 

For  unto  that,  that  men  may  see 
Most  monstrous  thing  of  kind, 

Myself  may  best  compared  be ; 

Love  hath  me  so  assign’d. 

There  is  a rock  in  the  salt  flood, 

A rock  of  such  nature, 

That  draweth  the  iron  from  the  wood, 

And  leaveth  the  ship  unsure. 

She  is  the  rock,  the  ship  am  I ; 

That  rock  my  deadly  foe, 

That  draweth  me  there  where  I must  die. 

And  robbeth  my  heart  me  fro. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


149 


A bird  there  fleeth,  and  that  but  one. 
Of  her  this  thing  ensueth ; 

That  when  her  days  be  spent  and  gone, 
With  tire  she  reneweth. 

And  I with  her  may  well  compare 
My  love,  that  is  alone ; 

The  flame  whereof  doth  aye  repair 
My  life  when  it  is  gone. 


HE  LAMENTETH  THAT  HE  HAD  EVER  CAUSE 
TO  DOUBT  HIS  LADY^S  EAITH. 

Deem  as  ye  list  upon  good  cause, 

I may  or  think  of  this,  or  that ; 

But  what,  or  why  myself  best  knows 
Whereby  I think  and  fear  not. 

But  thereunto  I may  well  think 
The  doubtful  sentence  of  this  clause ; 

^ I would  it  were  not  as  I think ; 

I would  I thought  it  were  not.’ 

For  if  I thought  it  were  not  so, 

Though  it  were  so,  it  grieved  me  not ; 

Unto  my  thought  it  were  as  tho’ 

I hearkened  though  I hear  not. 

At  that  I see  I cannot  wink, 

Nor  from  my  thought  so  let  it  go ; 

^ I would  it  were  not  as  I think ; 

I would  I thought  it  were  not.’ 

Lo ! how  my  thought  might  make  me  free, 


150 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Of  that  perchance  it  needs  not. 
Perchance  none  doubt  the  dread  I see ; 
I shrink  at  that  I bear  not. 

But  in  my  heart  this  word  shall  sink, 
Until  the  proof  may  better  be ; 

‘ I would  it  were  not  as  I think ; 

I would  I thought  it  were  not.’ 

If  it  be  not,  shew  no  cause  why 
I should  so  think,  then  care  I not ; 

For  I shall  so  myself  apply 
To  be  that  I appear  not. 

That  is,  as  one  that  shall  not  shrink 
To  be  your  OAvn  until  I die ; 

‘ And  if  that  be  not  as  I think, 
Likewise  to  think  it  is  not.’ 


THE  EECURED  LOVER 

EXULTETH  IN  HIS  FREEDOM,  AND  A^OWETH  TO  REMAIN 
FREE  UNTIL  DEATH. 

I AM  as  I am , and  so  aauII  I be ; 

But  hoAv  that  I am,  none  knoAA^eth  truly. 

Be  it  evil,  be  it  AA^ell,  be  I bond,  be  I free, 

I am  as  I am,  and  so  Avill  I be. 

I lead  my  life  indifferently ; 

I mean  nothing  but  honesty  ; 

And  though  folks  judge  full  diversely, 

I am  as  I am,  and  so  Avill  I die. 

I do  not  rejoice,  nor  yet  complain. 

Both  mirth  and  sadness  I do  refrain, 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


151 


And  use  the  means  since  folks  will  feign ; 
Yet  I am  as  I am,  be  it  pleasure  or  pain. 

Divers  do  judge  as  they  do  trow, 

Some  of  pleasure  and  some  of  woe, 

Yet  for  all  that  nothing  they  know ; 

But  1 am  as  I am,  wheresoever  I go. 

But  since  judgers  do  thus  decay. 

Let  every  man  his  judgment  say ; 

I will  it  take  in  sport  and  play. 

For  I am  as  I am,  whosoever  say  nay. 

Who  judgeth  well,  well  God  him  send ; 
Who  judgeth  evil,  God  them  amend ; 

To  judge  the  best  therefore  intend. 

For  I am  as  I am,  and  so  will  I end. 

Yet  som.e  there  be  that  take  delight 
To  judge  folks’  thought  for  envy  and  spite  ; 
But  whether  they  judge  me  wrong  or' right, 
I am  as  I am,  and  so  do  I write. 

Praying  you  all  that  this  do  read. 

To  trust  it  as  you  do  your  creed ; 

And  not  to  think  I change  my  weed. 

For  I am  as  I am,  however  I speed. 

But  how  that  is  I leave  to  you ; 

Judge  as  ye  list,  false  or  true. 

Ye  know  no  more  than  afore  ye  knew. 

Yet  I am  as  I am,  whatever  ensue. 

And  from  this  mind  I will  not  flee. 

But  to  you  all  that  misjudge  me, 

I do  protest  as  ye  may  see 
That  I am  as  I am,  and  so  will  be. 


152 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


POEMS. 

WYATT’S 'COMPLAINT  UPON  LOVE  TO  KEASON, 
WITH  LOVE’S  ANSWER. 

/ 

Mine  old  dear  enemy,  my  froward  master, 

Afore  that  Queen  I caused  to  be  acited. 

Which  holdeth  the  divine  part  of  our  nature ; 

That  like  as  gold  in  fire,  he  might  be  tried : 

Charged  with  dolour,  there  I me  presented. 

With  horrible  fear,  as  one  that  greatly  dreadeth 
A wrongful  death,  and  justice  alway  seeketh. 

And  thus  I said : ‘ Once  my  left  foot,  Madame, 
"When  I was  young,  I set  within  his  reign ; 

Whereby  other  than  fiery  burning  flame 
I never  felt,  but  many  a grievous  pain : 

Torment  I suffer’d,  anger  and  disdain ; 

That  mine  oppressed  patience  was  past. 

And  I mine  own  life  hated  at  the  last. 

‘ Thus  hitherto  have  I my  time  passed 
In  pain  and  smart : what  ways  profitable. 

How  many  pleasant  days  have  me  escaped, 

In  serving  this  false  liar  so  deceivable  ? 

What  wit  have  words  so  prest  and  forcible. 

That  may  contain  my  great  mishappiness. 

And  just  complaints  of  his  ungentleness  ? 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  153 

^ So  small  honey,  much  aloes,  and  gall. 

In  bitterness,  my  blind  life  have  I tasted : 

His  false  semblance,  that  turneth  as  a ball. 

With  fair  and  amorous  dance,  made  me  be  traced ; 
And  where  I had  my  thought,  and  mind  araised 
From  earthly  frailness,  and  from  vain  pleasure, 

Me  from  my  rest  he  took,  and  set  in  error. 

‘ God  made  he  me  regardless,  than  I ought. 

And  to  myself  to  take  right  little  heed : 

And  for  a woman  have  I set  at  nought 
All  other  thoughts,  in  this  only  to  speed : 

And  he  was  only  counsellor  of  this  deed ; 

Whetting  always  my  youthly  frail  desire 
On  cruel  whetstone,  tempered  with  fire. 

^ But  oh,  alas,  where  had  I ever  wit. 

Or  other  gift  given  to  me  of  nature  ? 

That  sooner  shall  be  changed  my  wearied  sprite 
Than  the  obstinate  will,  that  is  my  ruler : 

So  robbeth  he  my  freedom  with  displeasure  ; 

This  wicked  traitor,  whom  I thus  accuse : 

That  bitter  life  hath  turned  in  pleasant  use. 

‘ He  hath  me  hasted  through  divers  regions ; 
Through  desert  woods,  and  sharp  high  mountains  ; 
Through  froward  people,  and  through  bitter  pas- 
sions ; 

Through  rocky  seas,  and  over  hills  and  plains ; 

With  weary  travel,  and  with  laborous  pains ; 

Always  in  trouble  and  in  tediousness. 

In  all  error,  and  dangerous  distress. 

‘ But  neither  he  nor  she,  my  other  foe, 


154 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


For  all  my  flight  did  ever  me  forsake : 

That  though  my  timely  death  hath  been  too  slow, 
That  me,  as  yet,  it  hath  not  overtake : 

The  heavenly  gods  of  pity  do  it  slake ! 

And  note  they  this  his  cruel  tyranny. 

That  feeds  him  with  my  care,  and  misery ! 

‘ Since  I was  his,  hour  rested  I never. 

Nor  look  to  do ; and  eke  the  wakey  nights 
The  banished  sleep  may  in  no  wise  recover 
By  guile  and  force,  over  my  thralled  sprites. 

He  is  ruler,  since  which  bell  never  strikes 
That  I hear  not  as  sounding  to  renew  my  plaints. 
Himself  he  knoweth  that  I say  true. 

^ F or  never  worms  old  rotten  stock  have  eaten, 

As  he  my  heart,  where  he  is  resident. 

And  doth  the  same  with  death  daily  threaten ; 
Thence  come  the  tears,  and  thence  the  bitter  tor- 
ment. 

The  sighs,  the  words,  and  eke  the  languishment. 
That  annoy  both  me,  and  peradventure  other : 

Judge  thou  that  knowest  the  one,  and  eke  the  other.’ 

Mine  adversare  with  such  grievous  reproof. 

Thus  he  began  ; ‘ Hear,  Lady,  the  other  part ; 

That  the  plain  truth,  from  which  he  draweth  aloof. 
This  unkind  man  may  shew,  ere  that  I part : 

In  his  young  age,  I took  him  from  that  art. 

That  selleth  words,  and  make  a clattering  knight. 
And  of  my  wealth  I gave  him  the  delight. 

^ Now.  shames  he  not  on  me  for  to  complain. 

That  held  him  evermore  in  pleasant  game, 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


155 


From  his  desire,  that  might  have  been  his  pain : 

Yet  thereby  alone  I brought  him  to  some  frame ; 
Which  now  as  wretchedness,  he  doth  so  blame ; 

And  toward  honour  quickened  I his  wit. 

Where  as  a dastard  else  he  might  have  sit. 

‘ He  knoweth  how  great  Atrides,  that  made  Troy 
fret ; 

And  Hannibal  to  Rome  so  troublous ; 

Whom  Homer  honoured,  Achilles  that  great; 

And  African  Scipion,  the  famous ; 

And  many  other,  by  much  honour  glorious ; 

Whose  fame  and  acts  did  lift  them  up  above ; 

I did  let  fall  in  base  dishonest  love. 

‘ And  unto  him,  though  he  unworthy  were, 

I chose  the  best  of  many  a million ; 

That  under  sun  yet  never  was  her  peer 
Of  wisdom,  womanhood,  and  of  discretion  ; 

And  of  my  grace  I gave  her  such  a fashion. 

And  eke  such  way  I taught  her  for  to  teach. 

That  never  base  thought  his  heart  so  high  might 
reach. 

‘ Evermore  thus  to  content  his  mistress, 

That  was  his  only  frame  of  honesty, 

I stirred  him  still  toward  gentleness ; 

And  caused  him  to  regard  fidelity ; 

Patience  I taught  him  in  adversity : 

Such  virtues  learned  he  in  my  great  school ; 
Whereof  repenteth  now  the  ignorant  fool. 

‘ These  were  the  same  deceits,  and  bitter  gall, 
That  I have  used,  the  torment  and  the  anger. 


156 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


Sweeter  than  ever  did  to  other  fall ; 

Of  right  good  seed  ill  fruit,  lo,  thus  I gather ; 

And  so  shall  he  that  the  unkind  doth  further  : 

A serpent  nourish  I under  my  wing, 

And  now  of  nature  ’ginneth  he  to  sting. 

^ And  for  to  tell,  at  last,  my  great  service ; 

From  thousand  dishonesties  have  I him  drawen, 
That  by  my  means,  him  in  no  manner  wise 
Never  vile  pleasure  once  hath  overthrowen ; 
Where  in  his  deed,  shame  hath  him  always  gnawen 
Doubting  report  that  should  come  to  her  ear : 
Whom  now  he  blames,  her  wonted  he  to  fear. 

‘ Whatever  he  hath  of  any  honest  custom. 

Of  her,  and  me,  that  holds  he  every  whit : 

But  lo,  yet  never  was  there  nightly  phantom 
So  far  in  error,  as  he  is  from  his  wit 
To  plain  on  us  : he  striveth  with  the  bit. 

Which  may  rule  him,  and  do  him  ease,  and  pain, 
And  in  one  hour  make  all  his  grief  his  gain. 

‘ But  one  thing  yet  there  is,  above  all  other : 

I gave  him  wings,  wherewith  he  might  upfly 
To  honour  and  fame ; and  if  he  would  to  higher 
Than  mortal  things,  above  the  starry  sky : 
Considering  the  pleasure  that  an  eye 
Might  give  in  earth,  by  reason  of  the  love ; 

What  should  that  be  that  lasteth  still  above  ? 

‘ And  he  the  same  himself  hath  said  ere  this : 

But  now,  forgotten  is  both  that  and  I, 

That  gave  him  her,  his  only  wealth  and  bliss.’ 

And  at  this  word,  with  deadly  shriek  and  cry, 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


157 


^ Thou  gave  her  once/  quod  I,  ^ but  by  and  by 
Thou  took  her  ayen  from  me,  that  woe-worth  thee ! ’ 
^JSTot  I,  but  price ; more  worth  than  thou/  quod  he. 

At  last,  each  other  for  himself  concluded, 

I trembling  still,  but  he,  with  small  reverence ; 

‘ Lo,  thus,  as  we  each  other  have  accused. 

Dear  lady,  now  we  wait  thine  only  sentence.’ 

She  smiling,  at  the  whisted  audience, 

^It  liketh  me/  quod  she,  Ho  have  heard  your 
question. 

But  longer  time  doth  ask  a resolution.’ 


COMPLAINT  OF  THE  ABSENCE  OF  HIS  LOVE. 

So  feeble  is  the  thread,  that  doth  the  burden  stay 

Of  my  poor  life  ; in  heavy  plight,  that  falleth  in  de- 
cay ; 

That,  but  it  have  elsewhere  some  aid  or  some 
succours. 

The  running  spindle  of  my  fate  anon  shall  end  his 
course. 

For  since  the  unhappy  hour,  that  did  me  to  depart. 

From  my  sweet  weal,  one  only  hope  hath  stayed 
my  life  apart : 

Which  doth  persuade  such  words  unto  my  sored 
mind, 

‘ Maintain  thyself,  O woful  wight,  some  better  luck 
to  find : 


158 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


For  though  thou  be  deprived  from  thy  desired  sight, 

Who  can  thee  tell,  if  thy  return  be  for  thy  more 
delight  ? 

Or,  who  can  tell,  thy  loss  if  thou  mayst  once  re- 
cover. 

Some  pleasant  hour  thy  wo,e  may  wrap,  and  thee 
defend  and  cover.’ 

Thus  in  distrust  as  yet  it  hath  my  life  sustained ; 

But  now,  alas,  I see  it  faint,  and  I by  trust  am 
trained. 

The  time  doth  fleet,  and  I see  how  the  hours  do  bend 

So  fast,  that  I have  scant  the  space  to  mark  my 
coming  end. 

Westward  the  sun  from  out  the  east  scant  shews  his 
light, 

When  in  the  west  he  hides  him  straight,  within  the 
dark  of  night ; 

And  comes  as  fast,  where  he  began  his  path  awry, 

From  east  to  west,  from  west  to  east,  so  doth  his 
journey  lie. 

The  life  so  short,  so  frail,  that  mortal  men  live  here  ; 

So  great  a weight,  so  heavy  charge  the  bodies  that 
we  bear ; 

That  when  I think  upon  the  distance  and  the  space. 

That  doth  so  far  divide  me  from  my  dear  desired  face, 

I know  not  how  t’  attain  the  wings  that  I require. 

To  lift  me  up,  that  I might  fly,  to  follow  my  desire. 

Thus  of  that  hope,  that  doth  my  life  something 
sustain, 

Alas,  I fear,  and  partly  feel,  full  little  doth  remain. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


159 


Each  place  doth  bring  me  grief,  where  I do  not 
behold 

Those  lively  eyes,  which  of  my  thoughts  were  wont 
the  keys  to  hold. 

Those  thoughts  were  pleasant  sweet,  wdiilst  I en- 
joy’d that  grace ; 

My  pleasure  past,  my  present  pain  when  I might 
well  embrace. 

And  for  because  my  want  should  more  my  woe  in- 
crease ; 

In  watch,  in  sleep,  both  day  and  night,  my  will  doth 
never  cease. 

That  thing  to  wish,  whereof  since  I did  lose  the 
siglit, 

Was  never  thing  that  might  in  ought  my  woful  heart 
delight. 

Th’  uneasy  life  I lead  doth  teach  me  for  to  mete 

The  floods,  the  seas,  the  lands,  the  hills,  that  doth 
them  intermete 

’Tween  me,  and  those  shene  lights  that  wonted  for 
to  clear 

My  darked  pangs  of  cloudy  thoughts,  as  bright  as 
Phoebus’  sphere. 

It  teacheth  me  also  what  was  my  pleasant  state, 

The  more  to  feel,  by  such  record,  how  that  my 
w^ealth  doth  bate. 

If  such  record,  alas,  provoke  the  inflamed  mind. 

Which  sprang  that  day  that  I did  leave  the  best  of 
me  behind : 

If  love  forget  himself  by  length  of  absence  let, 


160 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


Who  doth  me  guide,  O woful  wretch,  unto  this 
baited  net 

Where  doth  increase  my  care,  much  better  were  for 

As  dumb  as  stone,  all  things  forgot,  still  absent  for 
to  be. 

Alas,  the  clear  crystal,  the  bright  transplendent 
glass 

Doth  not  bewray  the  colours  hid,  which  underneath 
it  has ; 

As  doth  th’  accumbred  sprite  the  thoughtful  throes 
discover. 

Of  fierce  delight,  of  fervent  love,  that  in  our  hearts 
we  cover: 

Out  by  these  eyes  it  sheweth  that  evermore  delight. 

In  plaint  and  tears  to  seek  redress ; and  eke  both 
day  and  night. 

Those  kinds  of  pleasures  most  wherein  men  so  re- 
joice. 

To  me  they  do  redouble  still  of  stormy  sighs  the 
voice. 

For  I am  one  of  them  whom  plaint  doth  well  content. 

It  fits  me  well  mine  absent  wealth  me  seems  for  to 
lament ; 

And  with  my  tears  t’  assay  to  charge  mine  eyes 
twain. 

Like  as  my  heart  above  the  brink  is  fraughted  full 
of  pain : 

And  for  because  thereto,  that  those  fair  eyes  to  treat 

Do  me  provoke ; I will  return,  my  plaint  thus  to 
repeat : 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt's  poems. 


161 


For,  there  is  nothing  else  so  toucheth  me  within ; 

Where  they  rule  all,  and  I alone  nought  but  the 
case,  or  skin : 

Wherefore  I shall  return  to  them,  as  well,  or  spring 

From  whom  descends  my  mortal  woe,  above  all 
other  thing. 

So  shall  mine  eyes  in  pain  accompany  my  heart. 

That  were  the  guides,  that  did  it  lead  of  love  to  feel 
the  smart. 

The  crisped  gold  that  doth  surmount  Apollo’s  pride ; 

The  lively  streams  of  pleasant  stars  that  under  it 
doth  glide ; 

Wherein  the  beams  of  love  do  still  increase  their 
heat, 

Which  yet  so  far  touch  me  so  near,  in  cold  to  make 
me  sweat : 

The  wise  and  pleasant  talk,  so  rare,  or  else  alone,. 

That  gave  to  me  the  courteous  gift,  that  erst  had 
never  none ; 

Be  far  from  me,  alas,  and  every  other  thing 

I might  forbear  with  better  will,  than  this  that  did 
me  bring  [pain. 

With  pleasant  word  and  cheer,  redress  of  linger’d 

And  wonted  oft  in  kindled  will  to  virtue  me  to  train. 

Thus  am  I forced  to  hear,  and  hearken  after  news : 

My  comfort  scant,  my  large  desire  in  doubtful  trust 
renews. 

And  yet  with  more  delight  to  moan  my  woful  case, 

I must  complain  those  hands,  these  arms  that  firmly 
do  embrace 


11 


162 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Me  from  myself,  and  rule  the  stern  of  my  poor  life ; 

The  sweet  disdains  the  pleasant  wraths  and  eke  the 
lovely  strife, 

That  wonted  well  to  tune  in  temper  just,  and  meet, 

The  rage,  that  oft  did  make  me  err,  by  furor  un- 
discree t. 

All  this  is  hid  fro  me,  with  sharp  and  ragged  hills, 

At  others’  will  my  long  abode  my  deep  despair 
fulfils ; 

And  if  my  hope  sometime  rise  up  by  some  redress. 

It  stumbleth  straight,  for  feeble  faint,  my  fear  hath 
such  excess. 

Such  is  the  sort  of  hope,  the  less  for  more  desire. 

And  yet  I trust  ere  that  I die  to  see  that  I require : 

The  resting-place  of  love,  where  virtue  dwells  and 
grows. 

There  I desire  my  weary  life  sometime  may  take 
repose. 

My  Song,  thou  shalt  attain  to  find  that  pleasant 
place. 

Where  she  doth  live,  by  wdiom  I live  : may  chance 
to  have  this  grace. 

When  she  hath  read,  and  seen  the  grief  wherein  I 
serve. 

Between  her  breasts  she  shall  thee  put,  there  shall 
she  thee  reserve : 

Then  tell  her  that  I come,  she  shall  me  shortly  see. 

And  if  for  weight  the  body  fail,  the  soul  shall  to  her 
flee. 


SIR  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


163 


THE  SONG  OF  lOPAS,  UNFINISHED. 

When  Dido  feasted  the  wandVing  Troian  knight, 

Whom  Juno’s  wrath  with  storms  did  force  in  Libic 
sands  to  light ; 

That  mighty  Atlas  taught,  the  supper  lasting  long. 

With  crisped  locks  on  golden  harp  lopas  sang  in 
song: 

^That  same,’  quod  he,  ‘that  we  the  World  do  call 
and  name. 

Of  heaven  and  earth  with  all  contents,  it  is  the  very 
frame. 

Or  thus,  of  heavenly  powers  by  more  power  kept  in 
one ; 

Repugnant  kinds,  in  mids  of  whom  the  earth  hath 
place  alone ; 

Firm,  round,  of  living  things  the  mother,  place,  and 
nurse ; 

Without  the  which  the  egall  weight,  this  heaven  doth 
hold  his  course : 

And  it  is  call’d  by  name  the  first  and  moving  heaven. 

The  firmament  is  placed  next,  containing  other 
seven. 

Of  heavenly  powers  that  same  is  planted  full  and 
thick. 

As  shining  lights  which  we  call  stars,  that  therein 
cleave  and  stick : 


164 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


With  great  swift  sway,  the  first,  and  with  his  restless 
source, 

Carrieth  itself,  and  all  those  eight,  in  even  continual 
course. 

And  of  this  world  so  round  within  that  rolling  case, 

Two  points  there  be  that  never  move,  but  firmly 
keep  their  place : 

The  one  we  see  alway,  the  other  stands  object 

Against  the  same,  dividing  just  the  ground  by  line 
direct ; 

Which  by  imagination  he  drawen  from  one  to 
t’other 

Toucheth  the  centre  of  the  earth,  for  way  there  is 
none  other : 

And  these  be  call’d  the  poles,  described  by  stars  not 
bright : 

Arctic  the  one  northward  we  see:  Antarctic  the 
other  hight. 

The  line,  that  we  devise  from  the  one  to  t’other  so, 

As  axle  is ; upon  the  which  the  heavens  about  do  go ; 

Which  of  water  nor  earth,  of  air  nor  fire,  have  kind ; 

Therefore  the  substance  of  those  same  were  hard 
for  man  to  find : 

But  they  been  uncorrupt,  simple,  and  pure  unmixt ; 

And  so  we  say  been  all  those  stars,  that  in  those 
same  be  fixt : 

And  eke  those  erring  seven,  in  circle  as  they  stray ; 

So  call’d,  because  against  that  first  they  have  repug- 
nant way; 

And  smaller  by-ways  too,  scant  sensible  to  man ; 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


165 


Too  busy  work  for  my  poor  harp ; let  sing  them 
he  that  can. 

The  widest  save  the  first,  of  all  these  nine  above, 

One  hundred  year  doth  ask  of  space,  for  one  degree 
to  move. 

Of  which  degrees  we  make  in  the  first  moving 
heaven, 

Three  hundred  and  threescore,  in  parts  justly  divided 
even. 

And  yet  there  is  another  between  those  heavens  two. 

Whose  moving  is  so  sly,  so  slack,  I name  it  not  for 
now. 

The  seventh  heaven  or  the  shell,  next  to  the  starry 
sky; 

All  those  degrees  that  gathereth  up,  with  aged  pace 
so  sly : 

And  doth  perform  the  same,  as  elders’  count  hath 
been. 

In  nine  and  twenty  years  complete,  and  days  almost 
sixteen ; 

Doth  carry  in  his  bowt  the  star  of  Saturn  old, 

A threat’ner  of  all  living  things  with  drought  and 
with  his  cold. 

The  sixth  whom  this  contains,  doth  stalk  with 
younger  pace. 

And  in  twelve  year  doth  somewhat  more  than 
Mother’s  voyage  was : 

And  this  in  it  doth  bear  the  star  of  Jove  benign^ 

’Tween  Saturn’s  malice  and  us  men,  friendly  defend- 
ing sign. 


166  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

The  fifth  bears  bloody  Mars,  that  in  three  hundred 
days 

And  twice  eleven  with  one  full  year  hath  finish’d 
all  thoso  ways. 

A year  doth  ask  the  fourth,  and  hours  thereto  six, 

And  in  the  same  the  day  his  eye,  the  Sun,  therein 
he  sticks. 

The  third  that  govern’d  is  by  that  that  governs  me. 

And  love  for  love,  and  for  no  love  provokes,  as  oft 
we  see,  [other. 

In  like  space  doth  perform  that  course,  that  did  the 

So  doth  the  next  unto  the  same,  that  second  is  in 
order : 

But  it  doth  bear  the  star,  that  call’d  is  Mercury; 

That  many  a crafty  secret  step  doth  tread,  as  cal- 
cars try. 

That  sky  is  last,  and  fix’d  next  us  those  ways  hath 
gone. 

In  seven-and-twenty  common  days,  and  eke  the 
third  of  one ; 

And  beareth  with  his  sway  the  divers  Moon  about ; 

Now  bright,  now  brown,  now  bent,  npw  full,  and 
now  her  light  is  out  : 

Thus  have  they  of  their  own  two  movings  all  these 
Seven ; 

One,  wherein  they  be  carried  still,  each  in  his  seve- 
ral heaven : 

Another  of  themselves,  where  their  bodies  be  laid 

In  by-ways,  and  in  lesser  rounds,  as  I afore  have 
said ; 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  167 

Save  of  them  all  the  Sun  doth  stray  least  from  the 
straight : ' 

The  starry  sky  hath  but  one  course,  that  we  have 
call’d  the  eight. 

And  all  these  movings  eight  are  meant  from  west 
to  east ; 

Although  they  seem  to  climb  aloft,  I say  from  east 
to  west. 

But  that  is  but  by  force  of  their  first  moving  sky. 

In  twice  twelve  hours  from  east  to  east,  that  car- 
rieth  them  by  and  by : 

But  mark  we  well  also,  these  movings  of  these  seven 

Be  not  above  the  axletree  of  the  first  moving  heaven. 

For  they  have  their  two  poles  directly  the  one  to 
the  other,’  &c. 


168 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


SOXGS  AND  EPIGRAMS. 

A DESCRIPTION  OF  SUCH  A ONE  AS  HE 
WOULD  LOVE. 

A FACE  that  should  content  me  wondrous  well, 
Should  not  be  fair,  but  lovely  to  behold ; 

Of  lively  look,  all  grief  for  to  repel ; 

With  right  good  grace,  so  would  I that  it  should 
Speak  without  word,  such  words  as  none  can  tell : 
Her  tress  also  should  be  of  crisped  gold ; 

With  wit,  and  these  perchance  I might  be  tried. 
And  knit  again  with  knot,  that  should  not  slide. 


WHY  LOVE  IS  BLIND. 

Of  purpose  Love  chose  first  for  to  be  blind. 

For,  he  with  sight  of  that,  that  I behold, 
Vanquish’d  had  been,  against  all  godly  kind : 

His  bow  your  hand,  and  truss  should  have  unfold ; 
And  he  with  me  to  serve  had  been  assign’d : 

But,  for  he  blind,  and  reckless  would  him  hold. 
And  still  by  chance  his  deadly  strokes  bestow ; 
With  such  as  see,  I serve,  and  suffer  woe. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


169 


THE  LOVER  BLAMETH  HIS  -INSTANT  DESIRE. 

Desire,  alas,  mj  master  and  my  foe, 

So  sore  alter’d  thyself,  how  mayst  thou  see  ? 
Sometime  thou  seekest,  and  drives  me  to  and  fro ; 
Sometime  thou  lead’st,  that  leadeth  thee  and  me. 
What  reason  is  to  rule  thy  subject  so. 

By  forced  law,  and  mutability  ? 

For  where  by  thee  I doubted  to  have  blame. 
Even  now  by  hate  again  I doubt  the  same. 

— ♦ — 

AGAINST  HOARDERS  OF  MONEY. 

For  shamefast  harm  of  great  and  hateful  need, 

In  deep  despair,  as  did  a wretch  go. 

With  ready  cord  out  of  his  life  to  speed, 

His  stumbling  foot  did  find  an  hoard,  lo. 

Of  gold,  I say,  where  he  prepar’d  this  deed. 

And  in  exchange  he  left  the  cord  tho. 

He  that  had  hid  the  gold,  and  found  it  not. 

Of  that  he  found  he  shap’d  his  neck  a knot. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  A GUN. 

Yulcan  begat  me,  Minerva  me  taught, 

Nature  my  mother,  craft  nourish’d  me  year  by  year ; 
Three  bodies  are  my  food,  my  strength  is  in  nought, 
Anger,  wrath,  waste,  and  noise  are  my  children 
dear ; 


170 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Guess,  friend,  what  I am,  and  how  I am  wrought. 
Monster  of  sea,  or  of  land,  or  of  elsewhere : 

Know  me,  and  use  me,  and  I may  thee  defend, 
And  if  I be  thine  enemy,  I may  thy  life  end. 


OF  THE  MOTHER  THAT  EAT  HER  CHILD  AT 
THE  SIEGE  OF  JERUSALEM. 

In  doubtful  breast  whilst  motherly  pity 
With  furious  famine  standeth  at  debate ; 

The  mother  saith,  ‘ O child  unhappy. 

Return  thy  blood  where  thou  hadst  milk  of  late ; 
Yield  me  those  limbs  that  I made  unto  thee, 

And  enter  there  where  thou  were  generate ; 

For  of  one  body  against  all  nature. 

To  another  must  I make  sepulture.’ 


TO  HIS  LOVE  WHOM  HE  HAD  KISSED  AGAINST 
, HER  WILL. 

Alas,  Madam,  for  stealing  of  a kiss. 

Have  I so  much  your  mind  therein  offended  ? 

Or  have  I done  so  grievously  amiss. 

That  by  no  means  it  may  not  be  amended  ? 

Revenge  you  then : the  readiest  way  i^  this ; 
Another  kiss,  my  life  it  shall  have  ended ; 

For  to  my  mouth  the  first  my  heart  did  suck ; 
The  next  shall  clean  out  of  my  breast  it  pluck. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


171 


" OF  THE  JEALOUS  MAN 

THAT  LOVED  THE  SAME  WOMAN,  AND  ESPIED  THIS  OTHER 
SITTING  WITH  HER. 

The  wancTring  gadling  in  the  summer  tide, 

That  finds  the  adder  with  his  rechless  foot, 

Starts  not  dismayM  so  suddenly  aside, 

As  jealous  despite  did,  though  there  were  no  boot, 
When  that  he  saw  me  sitting  by  her  side. 

That  of  my  health  is  very  crop  and  root. 

It  pleased  me  then  to  have  so  fair  a grace. 

To  sting  the  heart,  that  would  have  had  my  place. 


TO  HIS  LOVE  FROM  WHOM  HE  HAD  HER 
GLOVES. 

What  needs  these  threatening  words  and  wasted 
wind  ? 

All  this  cannot  make  me  restore  my  prey. 

To  rob  your  good,  y-wis  is  not  my  mind : 

Nor  causeless  your  fair  hand  did  I display. 

Let  Love  be  judge,  or  else  whom  next  we  find. 

That  may  both  hear  what  you  and  I can  say. 

She  reft  my  heart,  and  I a glove  from  her : 

Let  us  see  then,  if  one  be  worth  the  other. 


172 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


THE  LOVER  COMPLAINETH  THAT  DEADLY 

SICKNESS  CANNOT  HELP  HIS  AFFECTION. 

The  enemy  of  life,  decayer  of  all  kind, 

That  with  his  cold  withers  away  the  green, 

This  Other  night  me  in  my  bed  did  find, 

And  offer’d  me  to  rid  my  fever  clean ; 

And  I did  grant,  so  did  despair  me  blind : 

He  drew  his  bow  with  arrow  sharp  and  keen. 

And  strake  the  place  where  Love  had  hit  be- 
fore ; 

And  drave  the  first  dart  deeper  more  and  more. 


OF  THE  FEIGNED  FRIEND. 

Right  true  it  is,  and  said  full  yore  ago ; 

‘ Take  heed  of  him  that  by  the  back  thee  claweth : ’ 
For  none  is  worse  than  is  a friendly  foe. 

Though  thee  seem  good  all  thing  that  thee  delight- 
eth. 

Yet  know  it  well,  that  in  thy  bosom  creepeth : 

For  many  a man  such  fire  ofttimes  he  kindleth. 

That  with  the  blaze  his  beard  himself  he  singeth. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


173 


COMPAEISON  OF  LOVE  TO  A STREAM 
FALLING  FROM  THE  ALPS. 

From  these  high  hills  as  when  a spring  doth  fall, 

It  trilleth  down  with  still  and  subtle  course, 

Of  this  and  that  it  gathers  aye  and  shall, 

Till  it  have  just  down  flowed  to  stream,  and  force. 
Then  at  the  foot  it  rageth  over  all : 

So  fareth  love,  when  he  hath  ta’en  a source, 

Kage  is  his  reign,  resistance  ’vaileth  none. 

The  first  eschew  is  remedy  alone. 

— ♦ — 

OF  HIS  LOVE  THAT  PRICKED  HER  FINGER 
WITH  A NEEDLE. 

She  sat,  and  sewed,  that  hath  done  me  the  wrong ; 
Whereof  I plain,  and  have  done  many  a day : 

And,  whilst  she  heard  my  plaint,  in  piteous  song 
She  wish’d  my  heart  the  sampler,  that  it  lay. 

The  blind  master,  whom  I have  served  so  long. 
Grudging  to  hear  that  he  did  hear  her  say. 

Made  her  own  weapon  do  her  finger  bleed. 

To  feel  if  pricking  were  so  good  indeed. 


OF  THE  SAME. 

What  man  heard  such  cruelty  before? 

That,  when  my  plaint  remember’d  her  my  woe. 
That  caused  it,  she  cruel  more  and  more. 
Wished  each  stitch,  as  she  did  sit  and  sew, 


174 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


Had  prick’d  my  hearty  for  to  increase  my  sore : 
And,  as  I think,  she  thought  it  had  been  so : 
For  as  she  thought,  this  is  his  heart  indeed. 
She  pricked  hard,  and  made  herself  to  bleed. 


THE  LOVER  THAT  FLED  LOVE  NOW  FOLLOWS 
IT  WITH  HIS  HARM. 

Sometime  I fled  the  fire,  that  me  so  brent, 

By  sea,  by  land,  by  water,  and  by  wind ; 

And  now  the  coals  I follow  that  be  quent. 

From  Dover  to  Calais,  with  willing  mind. 

Lo,  how  desire  is  both  forth  sprung,  and  spent ; 
And  he  may  see,  that  whilom  was  so  blind. 

And  all  his  labour  laughs  he  now  to  scorn, 
Meashed  in  the  briers,  that  erst  was  only  torn. 


THE  LOVER  COMPARETH  HIS  HEART  TO 
THE  OVERCHARGED  GUN. 

The  furious  gun  in  his  most  raging  ire. 

When  that  the  bowl  is  rammed  in  too  sore, 

And  that  the  flame  cannot  part  from  the  fire ; 
Cracks  in  sunder,  and  in  the  air  do  roar 
The  shivered  pieces.  So  doth  my  desire  ; 

Whose  flame  increaseth  aye  from  more  to  more  ; 
Which  to  let  out,  I dare  not  look,  nor  speak ; 

So  inward  force  my  heart  doth  all  to  break. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


175 


HOW  BY  A KISS  HE  BOUND  BOTH  HIS  LIFE 
AND  DEATH. 

Nature,  that  gave  the  bee  so  feat  a grace 
To  find  honey  of  so  wondrous  fashion, 

Hath  taught  the  spider  out  of  the  same  place 
To  fetch  poison  by  strange  alteration ; 

Though  this  be  strange,  it  is  a stranger  case 
With  one  kiss  by  secret  operation 

Both  these  at  once  in  those  your  lips  to  find ; 

In  change  whereof  I leave  my  heart  behind. 


TO  HIS  LOVER  TO  LOOK  UPON  HIM. 

All  in  thy  look  my  life  doth  whole  depend, 

Thou  hidest  thyself,  and  I must  di'e  therefore ; 

But  since  thou  mayst  so  easily  help  thy  friend. 

Why  dost  thou  stick  to  salve  that  thou  madest  sore  ? 
Why  do  I die  since  thou  mayst  me  defend  ? 

And  if  I die,  thy  life  may  last  no  more ; 

For  each  by  other  doth  live  and  have  relief, 

I in  thy  look,  and  thou  most  in  my  grief. 


OF  DISAPPOINTED  PURPOSE  BY  NEGLIGENCE. 

Of  Carthage  he  that  worthy  warrior 
Could  overcome,  but  could  not  use  his  chance ; 
And  1 likewise  of  all  my  long  endeavour 


176  siK  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

The  sharp  conquest  though  fortune  did  advance, 
Ne  could  I use.  The  hold  that  is  given  over 
I unpossess,  so  hangeth  now  in  balance 
Of  war  my  peace,  reward  of  all  my  pain. 

At  Mountzon  thus  I restless  rest  in  Spain. 


OF  HIS  EETURN  FROM  SPAIN. 

Tagus,  farewell,  that  Avestward  with  thy  streams 
Turns  up  the  grains  of  gold  already  tried ; 

For  I with  spur  and  sail  go  seek  the  Thames, 
Gainward  the  sun  that  sheweth  her  wealthy  pride 
And  to  the  toAvn  that  Brutus  sought  by  dreams. 
Like  bended  moon,  that  leans  her  lusty  side ; 

My  King,  my  Country  I seek,  for  whom  I live : 
Of  mighty  Jove,  the  winds  for  this  me  give. 


WYATT  BEING  IN  PRISON,  TO  BRYAN. 

Sighs  are  my  food,  my  drink  are  my  tears ; 
Clinking  of  fetters  would  such  music  crave ; 

Stink,  and  close  air  aAvay  my  life  it  wears ; 

Poor  innocence  is  all  the  hope  I have : 

Rain,  wind,  or  Aveather  judge  I by  my  ears : 
Malice  assaults,  that  righteousness  should  have. 
Sure  am  I,  Bryan,  this  wound  shall  heal  again. 
But  yet,  alas,  the  scar  shall  still  remain. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


177 


OF  SUCH  AS  HAD  FORSAKEN  HIM. 

Lux,  iny  fair  falcon,  and  thy  fellows  all ; 

Flow  well  pleasant  it  were  your  liberty ! 

Ye  not  forsake  me,  that  fair  might  you  fall. 

But  they  that  sometime  liked  my  company. 

Like  lice  away  from  dead  bodies  they  crawl : 

Lo,  what  a proof  in  light  adversity  I 

But  ye,  my  birds,  I swear  by  all  your  bells,. 

Ye  be  my  friends,  and  very  few  else. 

— • — 

THE  LOVER  HOPETH  OF  BETTER  CHANCE. 

He  is  not  dead,  that  sometime  had  a fall. 

The  sun  returns,  that  hid  was  under  cloud. 

And  when  fortune  hath  spit  out  all  her  gall, 

I trust,  good  luck  to  me  shall  be  allowed : 

For  I have  seen  a ship  in  haven  fall. 

After  that  storm  hath  broke  both  mast  and  shroud ; 
The  willow  eke,  that  stoopeth  with  the  wind, 

Doth  rise  again,  and  greater  wood  doth  bind. 

— « — 

THAT  PLEASURE  IS  MIXED  WITH  EVERY  PAIN. 

Vexemous  thorns  that  are  so  sharp  and  keen, 

Bear  flowers,  we  see,  full  fresh  and  fair  of  hue : 
Poison  is  also  put  in  medicine. 

And  unto  man  his  health  doth  oft  renew : 

12 


178 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  ROEMS. 


The  fire  that  all  things  eke  consumeth  clean 
May  hurt  and  heal : then  if  that  this  be  true, 

I trust  sometime  my  harm  may  be  my  health, 
Since  every  woe  is  joined  with  some  wealth. 


THE  COURTIER’S  LIFE. 

In  Court  to  serve  decked  with  fresh  array, 

Of  sugar’d  meats  feeling  the  sweet  repast. 

The  life  in  banquets  and  sundry  kinds  of  play 
Amid  the  press  of  worldly  looks  to  waste, 

Hath  with  it  join’d  ofttimes  such  bitter  taste, 
That  whoso  joys  such  kind  of  life  to  hold, 

In  prison  joys  fetter’d  with  chains  of  gold. 

— « — 

OF  THE  MEAN  AND  SURE  ESTATE. 

Stand,  whoso  list,  upon  the  slipper  wheel 
Of  high  estate  ; and  let  me  here  rejoice. 

And  use  my  life  in  quietness  each  dele. 
Unknown  in  court  that  hath  the  wanton  toys : 
In  hidden  place  my  time  shall  slowly  pass. 

And  when  my  years  be  past  withouten  noise, 
Let  me  die  old  after  the  common  trace ; 

For  gripes  of  death  doth  he  too  hardly  pass. 
That  knowen  is  to  all,  but  to  himself,  alas. 
He  dieth  unknown,  dased  with  dreadful  face. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


179 


THE  LOYER  SUSPECTED  OF  CHANGE  PRAYETH 

THAT  IT  BE  NOT  BELIEVED  AGAINST  HIM. 

Accused  though  I be  without  desert; 

Sith  none  can  prove,  believe  it  not  for  true : 

For  never  yet,  since  that  you  had  my  heart. 
Intended  I to  false,  or  be  untrue. 

Sooner  I would  of  death  sustain  the  smart. 

Than  break  one  word  of  that  I promised  you ; 
Accept  therefore  my  service  in  good  part : 

None  is  alive,  that  can  ill  tongues  eschew, 

Hold  them  as  false ; and  let  us  not  depart 
Our  friendship  old  in  hope  of  any  new : 

Put  not  thy  trust  in  such  as  use  to  feign. 
Except  thou  mind  to  put  thy  friend  to  pain. 


OF  DISSEMBLING  WORDS. 

Throughout  the  world  if  it  were  sought. 
Fair  words  enough  a man  shall  find ; 

They  be  good  cheap,  they  cost  right  nought, 
Their  substance  is  but  only  wind ; 

But  well  to  say  and  so  to  mean. 

That  sweet  accord  is  seldom  seen. 


180 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


OF  SUDDEN  TRUSTING. 

Driven  by  desire  I did  this  deed, 

To  danger  myself  without  cause  why, 
To  trust  th’  untrue  not  like  to  speed. 

To  speak  and  promise  faithfully : 

But  now  the  proof  doth  verify. 

That  whoso  trusteth  ere  he  know. 
Doth  hurt  himself  and  please  his  foe. 


THE  LADY  TO  ANSWER  DIRECTLY  WITH 
YEA  OR  NAY. 

Madam,  wi  thou  ten  many  words. 

Once  I am  sure  you  will,  or  no : 

And  if  you  will,  then  leave  your  bourds. 
And  use  your  wit,  and  shew  it  so : 

For  with  a beck  you  shall  me  call ; 

And  if  of  one,  that  burns  alway. 

Ye  have  pity  or  ruth  at  all. 

Answer  him  fair  with  yea  or  nay. 

If  it  be  yea,  I shall  be  fain ; 

If  it  be  nay,  friends  as  before ; 

You  shall  another  man  obtain. 

And  I mine  own,  and  yours  no  more. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


181 


ANSWER. 

Of  few  words.  Sir,  you  seem  to  be. 

And  where  I doubted  what  I would  do 
Your  quick  request  hath  caused  me 
Quickly  to  tell  you  what  you  shall  trust  to. 

For  he  that  will  be  called  with  a beck, 

Makes  hasty  suit  on  light  desire : 

Is  ever  ready  to  the  check. 

And  burneth  in  no  wasting  fire. 

Therefore  whether  you  be  lief  or  loth. 

And  whether  it  grieve  you  light  or  sore, 

I am  at  a point : I have  made  an  oath. 

Content  you  with  ‘ Nay for  you  get  no  more. 

— # — 

THE  LOYER  PROEESSETH  HIMSELF 
CONSTANT. 

Within  my  breast  I never  thought  it  gain 
Of  gentle  minds  the  freedom  for  to  lose ; 

Nor  in  my  heart  sank  never  such  disdain. 

To  be  a forger,  faults  for  to  disclose  : 

Nor  I cannot  endure  the  truth  to  glose. 

To  set  a gloss  upon  an  earnest  pain : 

Nor  I am  not  in  number  one  of  those 
That  list  to  blow  retreat  to  every  train. 


182 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


THE  LOVER  BLAMETH  HIS  LOVE  FOR 

RENTING  OF  THE  LETTER  HE  SENT  HER. 

Sufficed  not,  Madam,  that  you  did  tear 
My  woful  heart,  but  thus  also  to  rent 
The  weeping  paper  that  to  you  I sent ; 

Whereof  each  letter  was  written  with  a tear  ? 
Could  not  my  present  pains,  alas,  suffice 
Your  greedy  heart  ? and  that  my  heart  doth  feel 
Torments,  that  prick  more  sharper  than  the  steel  ? 
But  new  and  new  must  to  my  lot  arise. 

Use  then  my  death : So  shall  your  cruelty. 

Spite  of  your  spite,  rid  me  from  all  my  smart, 
And  I no  more  such  torments  of  the  heart 
Feel  as  I do : This  shall  you  gain  thereby. 


THE  LOVER  COMPLAINETH  AND  HIS  LADY 
COMFORTETH. 

Lover.  It  burneth  yet,  alas,  my  heart’s  desire. 
Lady.  What  is  the  thing  that  hath  inflamed  thy 
heart  ? 

Lover.  A certain  point  as  fervent  as  the  fire. 
Lady.  The  heat  shall  cease,  if  that  thou  wilt  con- 
vert. 

Lover.  I cannot  stop  the  fervent  raging  ire. 

Lady.  What  may  I do,  if  thyself  cause  thy  smart? 


sm  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  183 

Lover.  Hear  my  request,  and  rue  my  weeping 
cliere. 

Lady.  With  right  good  will,  say  on : lo,  I thee  hear. 

Lover.  That  thing  would  I,  that  maketh  two  con- 
tent. [not. 

Lady.  Thou  seekest,  perchance,  of  me,  that  I may 

Lover.  Would  God,  thou  wouldst,  as  thou  mayst, 
well  assent. 

Lady.  That  I may  not  the  grief  is  mine,  God  wot. 

Lover.  But  I it  feel,  whatso  thy  words  have  meant. 

Lady.  Suspect  me  not : my  words  be  not  forgot. 

Lover.  Then,  say,  alas,  shall  I have  help  or  no  ? 

Lady.  I see  no  time  to  answer  yea,  but  no. 

Lover.  Say  yea,  dear  heart,  and  stand  no  more  in 
doubt. 

Lady.  I may  not  grant  a thing  that  is  so  dear. 

Lover.  Lo,  with  delays  thou  drivest  me  still  about. 

Lady.  Thou  wouldst  my  death,  it  plainly  doth 
appear.  [bleed  out. 

Lover.  First,  may  my  heart  his  blood,  and  life 

Lady.  Then  for  my  sake,  alas,  thy  will  forbear. 

Lover.  From  day  to  day  thus  wastes  my  life  away. 

Lady.  Yet  for  the  best,  suffer  some  small  delay. 

Lover.  Now  good,  say  yea:  do  once  so  good  a 
deed. 

Lady.  If  I said  yea,  what  should  thereof  ensue? 

Lover.  A heart  in  pain  of  succour  so  should 
speed : [renew. 

’Twixt  yea  and  nay,  my  doubt  shall  still 
My  sweet,  say  yea ; and  do  away  this  dread. 


184 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATrS  POEMS. 


Lady.  Thou  wilt  needs  so:  be  it  so;  but  then  be 
true.  [none. 

Lover.  Nought  would  I else,  nor  other  treasure 
Thus  hearts  be  won  hj  love,  request,  and 
moan. 


THE  LOVER  SUSPECTED  BLAMETH  ILL 
TONGUES. 

Mistrustful  minds  be  moved 
To  have  me  in  suspect. 

The  truth  it  shall  be  proved. 

Which  time  shall  once  detect. 

Though  falsehood  go  about 
Of  crime  me  to  accuse,  > 

At  length  I do  not  doubt 
But  truth  shall  me  excuse. 

Such  sauce  as  they  have  served 
To  me  without  desart. 

Even  as  they  have  deserved. 

Thereof  God  send  them  part. 


OF  HIS  LOVE  CALLED  ANNA. 

What  word  is  that,  that  changeth  not. 
Though  it  be  turn’d  and  made  in  twain  ? 
It  is  mine  Anna,  God  it  wot, 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


185 


The  only  causer  of  my  pain  ; 

My  love  that  meedeth  with  disdain. 
Yet  is  it  loved,  what  will  you  more  ? 
It  is  my  salve,  and  eke  my  sore. 


A EIDDLE  OF  A GIFT  GIVEN  BY  A LADY. 

A LADY  gave  me  a gift  she  had  not ; 

And  I received  her  gift  which  I took  not ; 

She  gave  it  me  willingly,  and  yet  she  would  not ; 
And  I received  it,  albeit,  I could  not : 

If  she  give  it  me,  I force  not ; 

And  if  she  take  it  again,  she  cares  not. 

Construe  what  this  is,  and  tell  not ; 

For  I am  fast  sworn  I may  not. 


THAT  SPEAKING  OR  PROFFERING  BRINGS 
ALWAY  SPEEDING. 

Speak  thou  and  speed  where  will  or  power  ought 
helpeth ; 

Where  power  doth  want,  will  must  be  won  by 
wealth : 

For  need  will  speed,  where  will  works  not  his  kind; 
And  gain  thy  foes  thy  friends  shall  cause  thee  find : 
For  suit  and  gold,  what  do  not  they  obtain  ? 

Of  good  and  bad  the  tryers  are  these  twain. 


186 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


T.  WYATT  OF  LOVE. 

Like  as  the  wind  with  raging  blast 
Doth  cause  each  tree  to  bow  and  bend ; 

Even  so  do  I spend  my  time  in  waste, 

My  life  consuming  unto  an  end. 

For  as  the  flame  by  force  doth  quench  the  fire 
And  running  streams  consume  the  rain  ; 

Even  so  do  I myself  desire 
To  augment  my  grief  and  deadly  pain. 

Whereas  I find  that  what  is  what, 

And  cold  is  cold  by  course  of  kind. 

So  shall  I knit  an  endless  knott ; 

Such  fruit  in  love,  alas  ! 1 find. 

When  I foresaw  those  crystal  streams. 

Whose  beauty  doth  cause  my  mortal  wound, 

I little  thought  within  those  beams 
So  sweet  a venom  for  to  have  found. 

I feel  and  see  my  own  decay ; 

As  one  that  beareth  flame  in  his  breast. 
Forgetful  thought  to  put  away 
The  thing  that  breedeth  my  unrest. 

Like  as  the  fly  doth  seek  the  flame. 

And  afterward  playeth  in  the  fire, 

TVho  findeth  her  woe,  and  seeketh  her  game. 
Whose  grief  doth  grow  of  her  own  desire. 

Like  as  the  spider  doth  draw  her  line, 

As  labour  lost  so  is  my  suit ; 

The  gain  is  hers,  the  loss  is  mine : 

Of  evil-sown  seed  such  is  the  fruit. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


187 


SATIKES. 

0^  THE  MEAN  AND  SURE  ESTATE,  WRITTEN 
TO  JOHN  POINS. 

My  mother’s  maids,  when  they  do  sew  and  spin, 
They  sing  a song  made  of  the  fieldish  mouse : 

That  for  because  her  livelode  was  but  thin. 

Would  needs  go  see  her  townish  sister’s  house. 

She  thought  herself  endured  to  grievous  pain. 

The  stormy  blasts  her  cave  so  sore  did  souse  ; 

That  when  the  furrows  swimmed  with  the  rain, 

She  must  lie  cold  and  wet,  in  sorry  plight ; 

And  worse  than  that,  bare  meat  there  did  remain 
To  comfort  her,  when  she  her  house  had  dight ; 
Sometime  a barley  corn,  sometime  a bean ; 

For  which  she  laboured  hard  both  day  and  night, 

In  harvest  time,  while  she  might  go  and  glean. 

And  when  her  store  was  stroyed  with  the  flood, 
Then  wellaway,  for  she  undone  was  clean  : 

Then  was  she  fain  to  take,  instead  of  food ; 

Sleep  if  she  might,  her  hunger  to  beguile. 

‘ My  sister,’  quod  she,  ^ hath  a living  good ; 

And  hence  from  me  she  dwelleth  not  a mile. 

In  cold  and  storm,  she  lieth  warm  and  dry 
In  bed  of  down ; the  dirt  doth  not  defile 
Her  tender  foot,  she  labours  not  as  I. 

Richly  she  feeds,  and  at  the  rich  man’s  cost ; 


188 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


And  for  lier  meat  she  needs  not  crave  nor  cry ; 

By  sea,  by  land,  of  delicates  the  most. 

Her  cater  seeks,  and  spareth  for  no  peril : 

She  feeds  on  boil’d  meat,  baked  meat,  and  roast, 

And  hath  therefore  no  wit  of  charge  nor  travail. 

And  when  she  list,  the  liquor  of  the  grape 
Doth  glad  her  heart  till  that  her  belly  swell.’ 

And  at  this  journey  makes  she  but  a jape. 

So  forth  she  goes,  trusting  of  all  this  wealth 
With  her  Sister  her  part  so  for  to  shape. 

That  if  she  might  there  keep  herself  in  health, 

To  live  a lady,  while  her  life  do  last. 

And  to  the  door  now  is  she  come  by  stealth ; 

And  with  her  foot  anon  she  scrapes  full  fast. 

Th’  other  for  fear  durst  not  well  scarce  appear ; 

Of  every  noise  so  was  the  wretch  aghast. 

At  last  she  asked  softly  who  was  there ; 

And  in  her  language  as  well  as  she  could, 

‘ Peep,’  quod  the  other,  ^ Sister,  I am  here.’ 

^ Peace,’  quod  the  town-mouse,  ^why  speakest  thou 
so  loud?’ 

And  by  the  hand  she  took  her  fair  and  well. 
^Welcome,’  quod  she,  ‘my  Sister,  by  the  rood.’ 

She  feasted  her,  that  joy  it  was  to  tell 

The  fare  they  had,  they  drank  the  wine  so  clear  ; 

And  as  to  purpose  now  and  then  it  fell. 

So  cheered  her  with,  ‘How,  Sister,  what  cheer?’ 
Amid  this  joy  befell  a sorry  chance. 

That  wellaway,  the  stranger  bought  full  dear 
The  fare  she  had.  For  as  she  look’d  askance. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


189 


Under  a stool  she  spied  two  steaming  eyes 
In  a round  head,  with  sharp  ears.  In  France 
Was  never  mouse  so  fear’d,  for  the  unwise 
Had  not^yseen  such  a beast  before. 

Yet  had  nature  taught  her  after  her  guise 
To  know  her  foe,  and  dread  him  evermore. 

The  town  mouse  fled,  she  knew  whither  to  go ; 

Tlf  other  had  no  shift,  but  wonders  sore  ; 

Fear’d  of  her  life,  at  home  she  wished  her  tho, 

And  to  the  door,  alas,  as  she  did  skip, 

Th’  heaven  it  would,  lo,  and  eke  her  chance  was  so 
At  the  threshold  her  sely  foot  did  trip ; 

And  ere  she  might  recover  it  again. 

The  traitor  cat  had  caught  her  by  the  hip, 

And  made  her  there  against  her  will  remain, 

That  had  forgot  her  power,  surety,  and  rest. 

For  seeking  wealth,  wherein  she  thought  to  reign. 

Alas,  my  Poins,  how  men  do  seek  the  best, 

And  find  the  worst,  by  error  as  they  stray ; 

And  no  marvel,  when  sight  is  so  opprest. 

And  blinds  the  guide,  anon  out  of  the  way 
Goeth  guide  and  all  in  seeking  quiet  life. 

O wretched  minds,  there  is  no  gold  that  may 
Grant  that  you  seek,  no  war,  no  peace,  no  strife : 
No,  no,  although  thy  head  were  hoop’d  with  gold, 
Serjeant  with  mace,  with  halbert,  sword,  nor  knife, 
Cannot  repulse  the  care  that  follow  should. 

Each  kind  of  life  hath  with  him  his  disease : 

Live  in  delights  even  as  thy  lust  w^ould. 

And  thou  shalt  find,  when  lust  doth  most  thee  please, 


190 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


It  irketh  straight,  and  by  itself  doth  fade. 

A small  tiling  is  it  that  may  thy  mind  appease? 
None  of  you  all  there  is,  that  is  so  mad. 

To  seek  for  grapes  on  brambles  or  on  briers : 

Nor  none  I trow,  that  hath  a wit  so  bad, 

To  set  his  hay  for  coneys  over  rivers ; 

Nor  ye  set  not  a drag-net  for  a hare. 

And  yet  the  thing,  that  most  is  your  desire, 

You  do  mis-seek  with  more  travail  and  care. 

Make  plain  thine  heart,  that  it  be  not  knotted 
With  hope  or  dread,  and  see  thy  will  be  bare 
From  all  affects,  whom  vice  hath  never  spotted. 
Thyself  content  with  that  is  thee  assigned. 

And  use  it  well  that  is  to  thee  allotted ; 

Then  seek  no  more  out  of  thyself  to  find 
The  thing  that  thou  hast  sought  so  long  before : 

For  thou  shalt  feel  it  sticking  in  thy  mind. 

Made,  if  ye  list  to  continue  your  sore. 

Let  present  pass,  and  gape  on  time  to  come. 

And  deep  thyself  in  travail  more  and  more. 
Henceforth,  my  Poins,  this  shall  be  all  and  sura ; 
These  wretched  fools  shall  have  nought  else  of  me  ; 
But,  to  the  great  God,  and  to  his  doom. 

None  other  pain  pray  I for  them  to  be  ; 

But  when  the  rage  doth  lead  them  from  the  right. 
That  looking  backward  Virtue  they  may  see, 

Even  as  she  is,  so  goodly  fair  and  bright : 

And  whilst  they  clasp  their  lusts  in  arms  across. 
Grant  them,  good  Lord,  as  thou  mayst  of  thy  might, 
To  fret  inward,  for  losing  such  a loss. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


191 


or  THE  COUHTIER^S  LIEE,  WRITTEN  TO 
JOHN  POINS. 

Mine  own  John  Poins,  since  je  delight  to  know 
The  causes  why  that  homeward  I me  draw, 

And  fly  the  press  of  Courts,  where  so  they  go ; 
Rather  than  to  live  thrall  under  the  awe 
Of  lordly  looks ; wrapped  within  my  cloak ; 

To  will  and  lust  learning  to  set  a law : 

It  is  not  that  because  I scorn  or  mock 

The  power  of  them,  whom  fortune  here  hath  lent 

Charge  over  us,  of  right  to  strike  the  stroke : 

But  true  it  is  that  I have  always  meant 
Less  to  esteem  them  than  the  common  sort. 

Of  outward  things  that  judge  in  their  intent 
Without  regard  what  inward  doth  resort. 

I grant,  sometime  of  glory  that  the  fire 
Doth  touch  my  heart.  Me  list  not  to  report 
Blame  by  honour,  and  honour  to  desire. 

But  how  may  I this  honour  now  attain. 

That  cannot  dye  the  colour  black  a liar  ? 

My  Poins,  I cannot  frame  my  tune  to  feign, 

To  cloak  the  truth,  for  praise  without  desert 
Of  them  that  list  ail  vice  for  to  retain. 

I cannot  honour  them  that  set  their  part 
With  Venus,  and  Bacchus,  all  their  life  long; 

Nor  hold  my  peace  of  them,  although  I smart. 


192  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

I cannot  croucli  nor  kneel  to  such  a wrong ; 

To  worship  them  like  God  on  earth  alone, 

That  are  as  wolves  these  selj  lambs  among. 

I cannot  with  my  words  complain  and  moan, 

And  suffer  nought ; nor  smart  without  complaint : 
Nor  turn  the  word  that  from  my  mouth  is  gone. 

I cannot  speak  and  look  like  as  a saint ; 

Use  wiles  for  wit,  and  make  deceit  a pleasure 
Call  craft  counsel,  for  lucre  still  to  paint. 

I cannot  wrest  the  law  to  fill  the  coffer. 

With  innocent  blood  to  feed  myself  fat. 

And  do  most  hurt,  where  that  most  help  I offer. 

I am  not  he,  that  can  allow  the  state 
Of  high  Cassar,  and  damn  Cato  to  die. 

That  with  his  death  did  scape  out  of  the  gate 
From  Caesar’s  hands,  if  Livy  doth  not  lie  ; 

And  would  not  live  where  liberty  was  lost ; 

So  did  his  heart  the  common  wealth  apply. 

I am  not  he,  such  eloquence  to  boast. 

To  make  the  crow  in  singing  as  the  swan ; 

Nor  call  the  lion  of  coward  beasts  the  most ; 

That  cannot  take  a mouse  as  the  cat  can : 

And  he  that  dieth  for  hunger  of  the  gold. 

Call  him  Alexander  ; and  say  that  Pan 
Passeth  Apollo  in  music  manifold : 

Praise  Sir  Topas  for  a noble  tale. 

And  scorn  the  story  that  the  Knight  told : 

Praise  him  for  counsel  that  is  drunk  of  ale ; 

Grin  when  he  laughs,  that  beareth  all  the  sway. 
Frown  when  he  frowns,  and  groan  when  he  is  pale 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


193 


On  others’  lust  to  hang  both  night  and  daj. 

None  of  these  points  could  ever  frame  in  me : 

My  wit  is  nought,  I cannot  learn  the  way. 

And  much  the  less  of  things  that  greater  be, 

That  asken  help  of  colours  to  devise : 

To  join  the  mean  with  each  extremity, 

With  nearest  virtue  aye  to  clothe  the  vice : 

And,  as  to  purpose  likewise  it  shall  fall. 

To  press  the  virtue  that  it  may  not  rise : 

As  drunkenness  good  fellowship  to  call ; 

The  friendly  foe,  with  his  fair  double  face, 

Say  he  is  gentle,  and  courteous  therewithal ; 

Affirm  that  F avel  hath  a goodly  grace 

In  eloquence : and  cruelty  to  name 

Zeal  of  justice,  and  change  in  time  and  place : 

And  he  that  suffereth  offence  without  blame, 

Call  him  pitiful ; and  him  true  and  plain. 

That  raileth  rechless  unto  each  man’s  shame. 

Say  he  is  rude,  that  cannot  lie  and  feign ; 

The  lecher  a lover ; and  tyranny 
To  be  the  right  of  a prince’s  reign : 

I cannot  I,  no,  no,  it  will  not  be. 

This  is  the  cause  that  I could  never  yet 

Hang  on  their  sleeves  that  weigh,  as  thou  mayst  see, 

A chip  of  chance  more  than  a pound  of  wit : 

This  maketh  me  at  home  to  hunt  and  hawk ; 

And  in  foul  weather  at  my  book  to  sit ; 

In  frost  and  snow,  then  with  my  bow  to  stalk ; 

No  man  doth  mark  whereso  I ride  or  go : 

In  lusty  leas  at  liberty  I walk ; 

13 


194 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


And  of  these  news  I feel  nor  weal  nor  woe ; 

Save  that  a clog  doth  hang  yet  at  my  heel. 

No  force  for  that,  for  it  is  order’d  so, 

That  I may  leap  both  hedge  and  dyke  full  well. 

I am  not  now  in  France,  to  judge  the  wine ; 

With  savoury  sauce  those  delicates  to  feel : 

Nor  yet  in  Spain,  where  one  must  him  incline, 
Father  than  to  be,  outwardly  to  seem. 

I meddle  not  with  wits  that  be  so  fine ; 

Nor  Flander’s  cheer  lets  not  my  sight  to  deem 
Of  black,  and  white ; nor  takes  my  wits  away 
With  beastliness ; such  do  those  beasts  esteem, 
Nor  I am  ^lot,  where  truth  is  given  in  prey 
F or  money,  poison,  and  treason ; of  some 
A common  practice,  used  night  and  day. 

But  I am  here  in  Kent  and  Christendom, 

Among  the  Muses,  where  I read  and  rhyme ; 
Where  if  thou  list,  mine  own  John  Poins,  to  come. 
Thou  shalt  be  judge  how  I do  spend  my  time. 


HOW  TO  USE  THE  COUKT  AND  HIMSELF 

THEREIN,  WRITTEN  TO  SIR  FRANCIS  BRIAN. 

A SPENDING  hand  that  alway  poureth  out. 

Had  need  to  have  a bringer-in  as  fast ; 

And  on  the  stone  that  still  doth  turn  about. 

There  groweth  no  moss  : these  proverbs  yet  do  last 
Reason  hath  set  them  in  so  sure  a place. 

That  length  of  years  their  force  can  never  waste. 


Sm  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


195 


When  I remember  this,  and  eke  the  case 
Wherein  thou  standst,  I thought  forthwith  to  write, 
Brian,  to  thee,  who  knows  how  great  a grace 
In  writing  is,  to  counsel  man  the  right. 

To  thee  therefore,  that  trots  still  up  and  down, 

And  never  rests ; but  running  day  and  night 
From  realm  to  realm,  from  city,  street,  and  town ; 
Why  dost  thou  wear  thy  body  to  the  bones  ? 

And  mightst  at  home  sleep  in  thy  bed  of  down : 

And  drink  good  ale  so  nappy  for  the  nones ; 

Feed  thyself  fat ; and  heap  up  pound  by  pound. 
Likest  thou  not  this ? No.  Why?  For  swine  so 
groans 

In  sty ; and  chaw  dung  moulded  on  the  ground ; 

And  drivel  on  pearls,  with  head  still  in  the  manger ; 
So  of  the  harp  the  ass  doth  hear  the  sound : 

So  sacks  of  dirt  be  fill’d.  The  neat  courtier 
So  serves  for  less  than  do  these  fatted  swine. 

Though  I seem  lean  and  dry,  withouten  moisture. 
Yet  will  I serve  my  prince,  my  lord  and  thine ; 

And  let  them  live  to  feed  the  paunch  that  list ; 

So  I may  live  to  feed  both  me  and  mine. 

By  God,  well  said.  But  what  and^if  thou  wist 
How  to  bring  in,  as  fast  as  thou  dost  spend. 

That  would  I learn.  And  it  shall  not  be  miss’d 
To  tell  thee  how.  Now  hark  what  I intend : 

Thou  knowest  well  first,  whoso  can  seek  to  please, 
Shall  purchase  friends,  where  truth  shall  but  offend : 
Flee  therefore  truth,  it  is  both  wealth  and  ease. 

For  though  that  truth  of  every  man  hath  praise. 


196 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Full  near  that  wind  goeth  truth  in  great  misease. 
Use  Virtue,  as  it  goeth  now-a-days, 

In  word  alone,  to  make  thy  language  sweet : 

And  of  thy  deed  yet  do  not  as  thou  says ; 

Else  be  thou  sure,  thou  shalt  be  far  unmeet 
To  get  thy  bread ; each  thing  is  now  so  scant, 
Seek  still  thy  profit  upon  thy  bare  feet. 

Lend  in  no  wise,  for  fear  that  thou  do  want, 
Unless  it  be  as  to  a calf  a cheese : 

But  if  thou  can  be  sure  to  win  a cant 
Of  half  at  least.  It  is  not  good  to  leese. 

Learn  at  the  lad,  that  in  a long  white  coat, 

From  under  the  stall,  withouten  lands  or  fees. 
Hath  leapt  into  the  shop ; who  knows  by  rote 
This  rule  that  I have  told  thee  here  before. 

Some  time  also  rich  age  begins  to  dote ; 

See  thou  when  there  thy  gain  may  be  the  more : 
Stay  him  by  the  arm  whereso  he  walk  or  go ; 

Be  near  alway,  and  if  he  cough  too  sore. 

What  he  hath  spit  tread  out ; and  please  him  so. 
A diligent  knave  that  picks  his  master’s  purse 
May  please  him  so,  that  he,  withouten  mo’. 
Executor  is : And  what  is  he  the  worse  ? 

But  if  so  chance,  thou  get  nought  of  the  man. 

The  widow  may  for  all  thy  pain  disburse : 

A riveled  skin,  a stinking  breath ; what  then  ? 

A toothless  mouth  shall  do  thy  lips  no  harm ; 

The  gold  is  good : and  though  she  curse  or  ban. 
Yet  where  thee  list  thou  mayst  lie  good  and  warm 
Let  the  old  mule  bite  upon  the  bridle. 


SIR  THOMAS  ■^YATT^S  POEMS. 


197 


Whilst  there  do  lie  a sweeter  in  thy  arm. 

In  this  also  see  that  thou  be  not  idle, 

Thy  niece,  thy  cousin,  sister,  or  thy  daughter, 

If  she  be  fair,  if  handsome  be  her  middle. 

If  thy  better  hath  her  love  besought  her, 

Avance  his  cause,  and  he  shall  help  thy  need : 

It  is  but  love,  turn  thou  it  to  a laughter. 

But  ware,  I say,  so  gold  thee  help  and  speed. 
That  in  this  case  thou  be  not  so  unwise 
As  Pander  was  in  such  a like  deed ; 

For  he,  the  fool  of  conscience,  was  so  nice. 

That  he  no  gain  would  have  for  all  his  pain : 

Be  next  thyself,  for  friendship  bears  no  price. 
Laughest  thou  at  me  ? why  ? do  I speak  in  vain  ? 
No,  not  at  thee,  but  at  thy  -thrifty  jest : 

Wouldst  thou,  I should,  for  any  loss  or  gain 
Change  that  for  gold  that  I have  ta’en  for  best 
Next  godly  things,  to  have  an  honest  name  ? 
Should  I leave  that  ? then  take  me  for  a beast. 
Nay  then,  farewell,  and  if  thou  care  for  shame, 
Content  thee  then  with  honest  poverty ; 

With  free  tongue  what  thee  mislikes,  to  blame, 
And  for  thy  truth,  sometime  adversity. 

And  therewithal  this  gift  I shall  thee  give, 

In  this  world  now  little  prosperity ; 

And  coin  to  keep,  as  water  in  a sieve. 


PENITENTIAL  PSALMS. 


DEDICATION. 


TO 

THE  EIGHT  HONOURABLE  AND  HIS  SINGULAR  GOOD  LORD, 
WILLIAM  MARQUIS  OF  NORTHAMPTON, 

EARL  OF  ESSEX,  BARON  OF  KENDAL,  LORD  PARR, 

AND  KNIGHT  OF  THE  MOST  NOBLE  ORDER  OF  THE  GARTER, 
YOUR  MOST  BOUNDEN  ORATOR  AT  COMMANDMENT, 

JOHN  HARRINGTON,  WISHETH  HEALTH  AND 
PROSPERITY  WITH  INCREASE  OF  VIRTUE,  AND  THE 
MERCY  OF  GOD  FOR  EVER. 

Considering  the  manifold  duties  and  abundant 
service  that  I owe  unto  your  good  Lordship,  right 
hondurable  and  my  singular  good  Lord,  I cannot  but 
see  infinite  causes  why  I,  chiefly  of  all  others,  ought 
with  all  cheerful  and  ready  endeavour  to  gratify 
your  good  Lordship  by  all  means  possible,  and  to 
apply  myself  wholly  to  the  same,  as  one  that  would 
gladly,  but  can  by  no  means  he  able  to  do  accord- 
ingly as  his  bounden  duty  requireth  : I cannot,  I say, 
but  see  and  acknowledge  myself  bounden,  and  not 
able  to  do  such  service  as  I owe,  both  for  the  inesti- 
mable benefits  that  your  noble  progenitors,  and  also 
your  good  Lordship  hath  shewed  unto  my  parents  and 
predecessors ; and  also  to  myself,  as  to  one  least  able 


202 


DEDICATION. 


to  do  any  acceptable  service,  though  the  will  be  at 
all  times  most  ready.  In  token  whereof,  your  Lord- 
ship  shall  at  all  times  perceive  by  simple  things  that 
my  little  wit  shall  be  able  to  invent,  that  if  mine 
heart  could  do  you  any  service,  no  labour  or  travail 
should  withhold  me  from  doing  my  duty ; and  that 
if  busy  labour  and  the  heart  might  be  able  to  pay 
the  duty  that  love  oweth,  your  Lordship  should  in 
no  point  find  me  ingrate  or  unthankful.  And  to 
declare  this  my  ready  will,  I have  dedicated  unto 
your  name  this  little  treatise,  which,  after  I had  pe- 
rused and  by  the  advice  of  others  (better  learned 
than  myself)  determined  to  put  it  in  print,  that  the 
noble  fame  of  so  worthy  a Knight  as  was  the  author 
hereof.  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  should  not  perish  but 
remain,  as  well  for  his  singular  learning  as  valiant 
deeds  in  martial  feats,  I thought  that  I could  not 
find  a more  worthy  patron  for  such  a man’s  work 
than  your  Lordship,  whom  I have  always  known  to 
be  of  so  godly  a zeal  to  the  furtherance  of  God’s 
holy  and  sacred  Gospel,  most  humbly  beseeching 
your  good  Lordship  herein  to  accept  my  good  will, 
and  to  esteem  me  as  one  that  wisheth  unto  the  same 
all  honour,  health,  and  prosperous  success.  Amen. 

Your  good  Lordship’s 

most  humble  at  commandment, 

John  Harrington. 


PENITENTIAL  PSALMS. 


H.  S. 

The  great  Macedon  that  out  of  Persia  chased 
Darius,  of  whose  huge  power  all  Asia  rang; 

In  the  rich  ark  if  Homer’s  rhymes  he  placed, 

Who  feigned  gests  of  heathen  princes  sang; 

What  hoi}'-  grave,  what  worthy  sepulture 
To  Wyatt’s  Psalms  should  Christians  then  purchase. 
Where  he  doth  paint  the  lively  faith  and  pure. 

The  steadhist  hope,  the  sweet  return  to  grace 
Of  just  David  by  perfect  penitence; 

Where  rulers  may  see  in  a mirrour  clear. 

The  bitter  fruits  of  false  concupiscence, 

How  Jewrj’-  bought  Urias’  death  full  dear. 

In  princes  hearts  God’s  scourge  y-printed  deep. 
Ought  them  awake  out  of  their  sinful  sleep. 


THE  PROLOGUE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

Loye,  to  give  law  unto  his  subjects’  hearts, 
Stood  in  the  eyes  of  Batsabe  the  bright ; 

And  in  a look  anon  himself  converts 
Cruelly  pleasant  before  King  David’s  sight, 
Thirst  dazed  his  eyes,  and  further-forth  he  starts 
With  venorn’d  breath,  as  softly  as  he  might 
Touches  his  sinews,  and  overruns  his  bones 
With  creeping  fire,  sparkled  for  the  nones. 


204 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


And  when  he  saw  that  kindled  was  the  flame, 

The  moist  poison  in  his  heart  he  lanced, 

So  that  the  soul  did  tremble  with  the  same ; 

And  in  this  brawl  as  he  stood  entranced. 

Yielding  unto  the  figure  and  the  frame. 

That  those  fair  eyes  had  in  his  presence  glanced ; 
The  form,  that  Love  had  printed  in  his  breast. 

He  honoureth  as  a thing  of  thinges  best. 

So  that,  forgot  the  wisdom  and  forecast. 

Which  woe  to  realms,  when  that  the  King  doth 
lack ; 

Forgetting  eke  God’s  Majesty  as  fast. 

Yea  and  his  own ; forthwith  he  doth  to  make 
Urie  to  go  into  the  field  in  haste> 

Urie,  I say,  that  was  his  jewel’s  make. 

Under  pretence  of  certain  victory. 

For  the  enemies’  swords  a ready  prey  to  be. 

Whereby  he  may  enjoy  her  out  of  doubt, 

Whom  more  than  God  or  himself  he  mindeth : 

And  after  he  had  brought  this  thing  about. 

And  of  that  lust  possess’d  himself,  he  findeth 
That  hath  and  doth  reverse  and  clean  turn  out 
Kings  from  kingdoms,  and  cities  undermineth ; 

He  blinded  thinks,  this  train  so  blind  and  close, 

To  blind  all  things,  that  nought  may  it  disclose. 

But  Nathan  hath  spied  out  this  treachery. 

With  rueful  cheer ; and  sets  afore  his  face 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


205 


The  great  offence,  outrage,  and  injury. 

That  he  hath  done  to  God,  as  in  this  case. 

By  murder  for  to  cloak  adultery : 

He  sheweth  eke  from  heaven  the  threats,  alas ! 

So  sternly  sore  this  Prophet,  this  Nathan, 

That  all  amazed  was  this  woful  man. 

Like  him  that  meets  with  horror  and  with  fear ; 
The  heat  doth  straight  forsake  the  limbes  cold. 

The  colour  eke  droopeth  down  from  his  cheer ; 

So  doth  he  feel  his  fire  manifold. 

His  heat,  his  lust,  his  pleasure  all  in  fere 
Consume  and  waste : and  straight  his  crown  of  gold. 
His  purple  pall,  his  sceptre  he  lets  fall. 

And  to  the  ground  he  throweth  himself  withal. 

Then  pompous  pride  of  state,  and  dignity 
Forthwith  rebates  repentant  humbleness: 

Thinner  vile  cloth  than  clotheth  poverty 
Doth  scantly  hide  and  clad  his  nakedness : 

His  fair  hoar  beard  of  reverent  gravity. 

With  ruffled  hair,  knowing  his  wickedness : 

More  like  was  he  the  selfsame  repentance 
Than  stately  prince  of  worldly  governance. 

His  harp  he  taketh  in  hand  to  be  his  guide, 
Wherewith  he  offereth  plaints,  his  soul  to  save, 
That  from  his  heart  distills  on  every  side. 
Withdrawing  himself  into  a dark  deep  cave 


206 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


Within  the  ground,  wherein  he  might  him  hide, 
Flying  the*  light,  as  in  prison  or  grave ; 

In  which,  as  soon  as  David  entered  had. 

The  dark  horror  did  make  his  soul  adrad. 

But  he,  without  prolonging  or  delay 
Of  that,  which  might  his  Lord  his  God  appease, 
Falleth  on  his  knees,  and  with  his  harp,  I say. 
Afore  his  breast  yfraughted  with  disease 
Of  stormy  sighs,  deep  draughts  of  his  decay, 
Dressed  upright,  seeking  to  counterpoise 
His  song  with  sighs,  and  touching  of  the  strings, 
With  tender  heart,  lo,  thus  to  God  he  sings. 


DOMINE,  NE  IN  FURORE.* 

0 Lord  ! since  in  my  mouth  thy  mighty  name 
Suffereth  itself,  my  Lord,  to  name  and  call. 
Here  hath  my  heart  hope  taken  by  the  same ; 
That  the  repentance,  which  I have  and  shall. 
May  at  thy  hand  seek  mercy,  as  the  thing 
Of  only  comfort  of  wretched  sinners  all : 
Whereby  I dare  with  humble  bemoaning. 

By  thy  goodness,  this  thing  of  thee  require  : 
Chastise  me  not  for  my  deserving 
According  to  thy  just  conceived  ire. 

0 Lord ! I dread : and  that  I did  not  dread 

1 me  repent ; and  evermore  desire 


* Psalm  vi. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


207 


Thee  Thee  to  dread.  I open  here,  and  spread 
My  fault  to  thee : but  thou,  for  thy  goodness, 
Measure  it  not  in  largeness,  nor  in  breade : 

Punish  it  not  as  asketh  the  greatness 
Of  thy  furor,  provoked  by  mine  offence. 

Temper,  0 Lord,  the  harm  of  my  excess. 

With  mending  will,  that  I for  recompense 
Prepare  again  : and  rather  pity  mej 
For  I am  weak,  and  clean  without  defence ; 

More  is  the  need  I have  of  remedy. 

F or  of  the  whole  the  leche  taketh  no  cure  ; 

The  sheep  that  strayeth  the  shepherd  seeks  to  see. 
I,  Lord,  am  stray’d ; and,  seke  ^ without  recure. 
Feel  all  my  limbs,  that  have  rebelled,  for  fear 
Shake  in  despair,  unless  thou  me  assure : 

My  flesh  is  troubled,  my  heart  doth  fear  the  spear : 
That  dread  of  death,  of  death  that  ever  lasts, 
Threateth  of  right,  and  draweth  near  and  near. 
Much  more  my  soul  is  troubled  by  the  blasts 
Of  these  assaults,  that  come  as  thick  as  hail. 

Of  worldly  vanities,  that  temptation  casts 
Against  the  bulwark  of  the  fleshe  frail. 

Wherein  the  soul  in  great  perplexity 
Feeleth  the  senses  with  them  that  assail 
Conspire,  corrupt  by  pleasure  and  vanity : 
Whereby  the  wretch  doth  to  the  shade  resort 
Of  hope  in  Thee,  in  this  extremity. 

But  thou,  O Lord,  how  long  after  this  sort 
F orbearest  thou  to  see  my  misery  ? 


* sick. 


208 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT  S POEMS. 


Suffer  me  yet^in  hope  of  some  comfort 
F ear,  and  not  feel  that  thou  forgettest  me. 
Return,  0 Lord  : 0 Lord,  I thee  beseech ! 

Unto  thy  old  wonted  benignity. 

Reduce,  revive  my  soul : be  thou  the  leche  ; 
And  reconcile  the  great  hatred,  and  strife. 

That  it  hath  ta’en  against  the  flesh  ; the  wretch 
That  stirred  hath  thy  wrath  by  filthy  life. 

See  how  my  soul  doth  fret  it  to  the  bones : 
Inward  remorse,  so  sharpeth  it  like  a knife. 
That  but  Thou  help  the  caitifl*,  that  bemoans 
His  great  offence,  it  turneth  anon  to  dust. 

Here  hath  thy  mercy  matter  for  the  nones ; 

For  if  thy  righteous  hand,  that  is  so  just. 

Suffer  no  sin,  or  strike  with  dampnation. 

Thy  infinite  mercy  want  nedes  it  must 
Subject  matter  for  his  operation  : 

F or  that  in  death  there  is  no  memory 
Among  the  dampned,  nor  yet  no  mention 
Of  thy  great  name,  ground  of  all  glory. 

Then  if  I die,  and  go  whereas  I fear 
To  think  thereon,  how  shall  thy  great  mercy 
Sound  in  my  mouth  unto  the  worldes  ear  ? 

For  there  is  none,  that  can  Thee  laud,  and  love, 
For  that  thou  wilt  no  love  among  theta  there. 
Suffer  my  cries  the  mercy  for  to  move, 

That  wonted  is  a hundred  years’  offence 
In  a moment  of  repentance  to  remove. 

How  oft  have  I called  up  with  diligence 
This  slothful  flesh  long  afore  the  day 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  20^ 

For  to  confess  his  fault,  and  negligence ; 

That  to  the  den,  for  aught  that  I could  saj, 
llatfi  still  returned  to  shrowd  himself  from  cold  ? 
Whereby  it  suffereth  now  for  such  delay, 

By  mighty  pains,  instead  of  pleasures  old. 

I wash  my  bed  with  tears  continual 
To  dull  my  sight,  that  it  be  never  bold 
To  stir  my  heart  again  to  such  a fall. 

Thus  dry  I up,  among  my  foes,  in  woe, 

That  with  my  fall  do  rise,  and  grow  withal, 

And  me  beset  even  now  where  I am,  sa 
With  secret  traps,  to  trouble  my  penance.. 

Some  do  present  to  my  weeping  eyes,  lo. 

The  cheer,  the  manner,  beauty,  or  countenance 
Of  her,  whose  look,  alas  I did  make  me  blind : 

Some  other  offer  to  my  remembrance 
Those  pleasant  words,  now  bitter  to  my  mind : 

And  some  shew  me  the  power  of  my  armour. 
Triumph,  and  conquest,  and  to  my  head  assign’d 
Double  diadem : some  shew  the  favour 
Of  people  frail,  palace,  pomp,  and  riches. 

To  these  mermaids,  and  their  baits  of  error 
I stop  my  ears,  with  help  of  thy  goodness. 

And  for  I feel,  it  cometh  alone  of  Thee 
That  to  my  heart  these  foes  have  none  access, 

I dare  them  bid.  Avoid,  wretches,  and  flee ; 

The  Lord  hath  heard  the  voice  of  my  complaint ; 
Your  engines  take  no  more  effect  in  me: 

The  Lord  hath  heard,  I say,  and  seen  me  faint 
Under  your  hand,  and  pitieth  my  distress. 

14: 


210 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


He  shall  do  make  my  senses,  by  constraint, 

Obey  the  rule,  that  reason  shall  express : 

Where  the  deceit  of  that  your  glosing  bait 
Made  them  usurp  a power  in  all  excess. 

Shamed  be  they  all,  that  so  do  lie  in  wait 
To  compass  me,  by  missing  of  their  prey ! 

Shame  and  rebuke  redound  to  such  deceit ! 

Sudden  confusion,  as  stroke  without  delay. 

Shall  so  deface  their  crafty  suggestion. 

That  they  to  hurt  my  health  no  more  assay 
Since  I,  O Lord,  remain  in  thy  protection. 

— « — 

THE  AUTHOR. 

Whoso  hath  seen  the  sick  in  his  fever. 

After  truce  taken  with  the  heat  or  cold, 

And  that  the  tit  is  past  of  his  fervour, 

Draw  fainting  sighs ; let  him,  I say,  behold 
Sorrowful  David,  after  his  langour. 

That  with  his  tears,  that  from  his  eyen  down  roll’d, 
Paused  his  plaint,  and  laid  adown  his  harp. 
Faithful  record  of  all  his  sorrows  sharp. 

It  seemed  now  that  of  his  fault  the  horror 
Did  make  afear’d  no  more  his  hope  of  grace ; 

The  threats  whereof  in  horrible  terror 
Did  hold  his  heart  as  in  despair  a space, 

Till  he  had  will’d  to  seek  for  his  succour ; 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt's  poems. 


211 


Himself  accusing,  beknowing  his  case, 

Thinking  so  best  his  Lord  to  appease, 

And  not  yet  healed  he  feeleth  his  disease. 

Now  seemeth  fearful  no  more  the  dark  cave, 

That  erst  did  make  his  soul  for  to  tremble ; 

A place  devout,  of  refuge  for  to  save 
The  succourless  it  rather  doth  resemble : 

For  who  had  seen  so  kneeling  within  the  grave 
The  chief  pastor  of  the  Hebrews'  assemble. 

Would  judge  it  made  by  tears  of  penitence 
A 'sacred  place  worthy  of  reverence. 

With  vapour'd  eyes  he  looketh  here  and  there. 
And  when  he  hath  a while  himself  bethought. 
Gathering  his  spirits,  that  were  dismay’d  for  fear, 
His  harp  again  into  his  hand  he  raught. 

Tuning  accord  by  judgment  of  his  ear. 

His  heart's  bottom  for  a sigh  he  sought ; 

And  therewithal  upon  the  hollow  tree 
With  strained  voice  again  thus  crieth  he. 


BEATI,  QUORUM  REMISSE  SUNT  INIQUITATES.* 

Oh  ! happy  are  they  that  have  forgiveness  got 
Of  their  offence,  not  by  their  penitence 
As  by  merit,  which  recompenseth  not ; 

Although  that  yet  pardon  hath  not  offence 


* Psalm  xxxii. 


212  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

Without  the  same  ; but  by  the  goodness 
Of  Him  that  hath  perfect  intelligence 
Of  heart  contrite,  and  covereth  the  greatness 
Of  sin  within  a merciful  discharge. 

And  happy  are  they  that  have  the  wilfulness 
Of  lust  restrain’d  afore  it  went  at  large, 

Provoked  by  the  dread  of  God’s  furor ; 

Whereby  they  have  not  on  their  backs  the  charge 
Of  others’  faults  to  suffer  the  dolor ; 

For  that  their  fault  was  never  execute 
In  open  sight,  example  of  error. 

And  happy  is  he  to  whom  God  doth  impute 
No  more  his  fault,  by  knowledging  his  sin : 

But  cleansed  now  the  Lord  doth  him  repute ; 

As  adder  fresh  new  stripped  from  his  skin : 

Nor  In  his  sprite  is  aught  undiscover’d. 

I,  for  because  I hid  it  still  within, 

Thinking  by  state  in  fault  to  be  preferr’d, 

Do  find  by  hiding  of  my  fault  my  harm ; 

As  he  that  findeth  his  health  hindered 
By  secret  wound  concealed  from  the.  charm 
Of  leech’s  cure,  that  else  had  had  redress ; 

And  feel  my  bones  consume,  and  wax  unfirm 
By  daily  rage,  roaring  in  excess. 

Thy  heavy  hand  on  me  was  so  increased 
Both  day  and  night,  and  held  my  heart  in  press, 
With  pricldng  thoughts  bereaving  me  my  rest ; 
That  withered  is  my  lustiness  away. 

As  summer  heats  that  have  the  green  oppress’d. 
Wherefore  I did  another  way  assay, 


SIR  THOMAS  WTATT’s  POEMS.  213 

And  sought  forthwith  to  open  in  thy  sight 
My  fault,  my  fear,  my  filthiness,  I say, 

And  not  to  hide  from  Thee  my  great  unright. 

I shall,  quoth  I,  against  myself  confess 
Unto  thee.  Lord,  all  my  sinful  plight : 

And  thou  forthwith  didst  wash  the  wickedness 
Of  mine  offence.  Of  truth  right  thus  it  is. 
Wherefore  they,  that  have  tasted  thy  goodness, 

At  me  shall  take  example  as  of  this. 

And  pray,  and  seek  in  time  for  time  of  grace. 

Then  shall  the  storms  and  floods  of  harm  him  miss, 
And  him  to  reach  shall  never  have  the  space. 

Thou  art  my  refuge,  and  only  safeguard 
From  the  troubles  that  compass  me  the  place. 

Such  joys  as  he  that  scapes  his  enemies  ward 
With  loosed  bands,  hath  in  his  liberty ; 

Such  is  my  joy,  thou  hast  to  me  prepared. 

That,  as  the  seaman  in  his  jeopardy 
By  sudden  light  perceived  hath  the  port ; 

So  by  thy  great  merciful  property 
Within  thy  book  thus  read  I my  comfort : 

‘I  shall  thee  teach,  and  give  understanding. 

And  point  to  thee  wdiat  w^ay  thou  shalt  resort 
For  thy  address,  to  keep  thee  from  wandering: 

Mine  eyes  shall  take  the  charge  to  be  thy  guide : 

I ask  thereto  of  thee  only  this  thing. 

Be  not  like  horse,  or  mule,  that  men  do  ride. 

That  not  alone  doth  not  his  master  know. 

But  for  the  good  thou  dost  him  must  be  tied. 

And  bridled  least  his  guide  he  bite  or  throw.’ 


214  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

Oil ! diverse  are  the  cliastisings  of  sin 

In  meat,  in  drink,  in  breath,  that  man  doth  blow, 

111  sleep,  in  watch,  in  fretting  still  within : 

That  never  sntfer  rest  unto  the  mind 
Fill’d  with  offence ; that  new  and  new  begin 
With  thousand  fears  the  heart  to  strain  and  bind : 
But  for  all  this,  he  that  in  God  doth  trust 
With  mercy  shall  himself  defended  find. 

Joy  and  rejoice,  I say,  you  that  be  just 
In  Him,  that  maketh  and  holdeth  you  so  still : 

In  Him  your  glory  always  set  you  must, 

All  you  that  be  of  upright  heart  and  will. 

— • — 

THE  AUTHOR. 

This  song  ended,  David  did  stint  his  voice ; 

And  in  that  while  he  about  with  his  eye 

Did  seek  the  dark  cave ; with  which,  withouten  noise, 

His  silence  seemed  to  argue,  and  reply 

Upon  his  peace  this  peace,  that  did  rejoice 

The  soul  with  mercy,  that  mercy  so  did  call, 

And  found  mercy  at  plentiful  Mercy’s  hand, 

Never  denied,  but  where  it  was  withstand. 

As  the  servant  that  in  his  master’s  face 
Finding  pardon  of  his  passed  offence, 

Considering  his  great  goodness  and  his  grace, 

Glad  tears  distills,  as  gladsome  recompense : 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


215 


Right  so  David  seemed  in  the  place 
A marble  image  of  singular  reverence, 

Carved  in  the  rock,  with  eyes  and  hand  on  high 
Made  as  by  craft  to  plain,  to  sob,  to  sigh. 

This  while  a beam  that  bright  sun  forth  sendeth. 
That  sun,  the  which  was  never  cloud  could  hide, 
Pierceth  the  cave,  and  on  the  harp  descendeth : 
Whose  glancing  light  the  chords  did  overglide. 
And  such  lustre  upon  the  harp  extendeth. 

As  light  of  lamp  upon  the  gold  clean  tried. 

The  lome  whereof  into  his  eyes  did  start. 
Surprised  with  joy  by  penance  of  the  heart. 

He  then  inflamed  with  far  more  hot  affect 
Of  God,  than  he  was  erst  of  Batsabe, 

His  left  foot  did  on  the  earth  erect. 

And  just  thereby  remaineth  the  other  knee ; 

To  the  left  side  his  weight  he  doth  direct : 

For  hope  of  health  his  harp  again  taketh  he ; 

His  hand,  his  tune,  his  mind  eke  sought  this  lay. 
Which  to  the  Lord  with  sober  voice  did  say, 

DOMINE,  NE  IN  FURORE  TUO.* 

0 Lord  ! as  I have  thee  both  pray’d,  and  pray, 
(Although  in  Thee  be  no  alteration. 

But  that  we  men,  like  as  ourselves,  we  say. 
Measuring  thy  justice  by  our  mutation) 


* Psalm  xxxviii. 


216  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

Chastise  me  not,  O Lord ! in  thy  furor, 

Nor  me  correct  in  wrathful  castigation : 

For  that  thy  arrows  of  fear,  of  terror. 

Of  sword,  of  sickness,  of  famine,  and  of  fire. 

Stick  deep  in  me : I,  lo ! from  mine  error. 

Am  plunged  up  ; as  horse  out  of  the  mire 
With  stroke  of  spur ; such  is  thy  hand  on  me. 

That  in  my  flesh,  for  terror  of  thy  ire. 

Is  not  one  point  of  firm  stability ; 

Nor  in  my  bones  there  is  no  steadfastness : 

Such  is  my  dread  of  mutability  ; 

For  that  I know  my  frailful  wickedness. 

F or  why  ? my  sins  above  my  head  are  bound. 

Like  heavy  weight,  that  doth  my  force  oppress ; 
Under  the  which  I stoop  and  bow  to  the  ground, 
As  willow  plant  haled  by  violence. 

And  of  my  flesh  each  not  well  cured  wound. 

That  fester’d  is  by  folly  and  negligence. 

By  secret  lust  hath  rankled  under  skin. 

Not  duly  cured  by  my  penitence. 

Perceiving  thus  the  tyranny  of  sin, 

That  with  his  weight  hath  humbled  and  depress’d  * 
My  pride  ; by  gnawing  of  the  worm  within. 

That  neve'r  dieth,  I live  withouten  rest. 

So  are  my  entrails  infect  with  fervent  sore. 
Feeding  the  harm  that  hath  my  wealth  oppress’d. 
That  in  my  flesh  is  left  no  health  therefore. 

So  wondrous  great  hath  been  my  vexation. 

That  it  hath  forced  my  heart  to  cry  and  roar. 

O Lord ! thou  knowest  the  inward  contemplation 


SIR  THOMAS  \YyATT’s  POEMS. 


217 


Of  my  desire : thou  knowest  my  sighs  and  plaints  : 
Thou  knowest  the  tears  of  my  lamentation 
Cannot  express  my  heart’s  inward  restraints. 

My  heart  panteth,  my  force  I feel  it  quail ; 

My  sight,  my  eyes,  my  look  decays  and  faints. 

And  when  mine  enemies  did  me  most  assail. 

My  friends  most  sure,  wherein  I set  most  trust, 
Mine  own  virtues,  soonest  then  did  fail 
And  stand  apart ; reason  and  wit  unjust. 

As  kin  unkind,  were  farthest  gone  at  need : 

So  had  they  place  their  venom  out  to  thrust. 

That  sought  my  death  by  naughty  word  and  deed. 
Their  tongues  reproach,  their  wit  did  fraud  apply, 
And  I,  like  deaf  and  dumb,  forth  my  way  yede. 
Like  one  that  hears  not,  nor  hath  to  reply 
One  word  again ; knowing  that  from  thine  hand 
These  things  proceed,  and  thou.  Lord,  shall  supply 
My  trust  in  that,  wherein  I stick  and  stand. 

Yet  have  I had  great  cause  to  dread  and  fear. 

That  thou  wouldst  give  my  foes  the  over  hand ; 
For  in  my  fall  they  shewed  such  pleasant  cheer. 
And  therewithal  I alway  in  the  lash 
Abide  the  stroke ; and  with  me  every  where 
I bear  my  fault,  that  greatly  doth  abash 
My  doleful  cheer ; for  I my  fault  confess. 

And  my  desert  doth  all  my  comfort  dash. 

In  the  mean  while  mine  enemies  still  increase ; 
And  my  provokers  hereby  do  augment. 

That  without  cause  to  hurt  me  do  not  cease : 

In  evil  for  good  against  me  they  be  bent, 


218 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


And  hinder  shall  my  good  pursuit  of  grace. 

Lo  ! now,  my  God,  that  seest  my  whole  intent ! 
My  Lord,  I am,  thou  knowest,  in  what  case ; 
Forsake  me  not,  be  not  far  from  me  gone. 

Haste  to  my  help ; haste.  Lord,  and  haste  apace, 
O Lord,  the  Lord  of  all  my  health  alone. 


THE  AUTHOK. 

Like  as  the  pilgrim,  that  in  a long  way 
Fainting  for  heat,  provoked  by  some  wind. 

In  some  fresh  shade  lieth  down  at  mid  of  day : 

So  doth  of  David  the  wearied  voice  and  mind 
Take  breath  of  sighs,  when  he  had  sung  this  lay, 
Under  such  shade  as  sorrow  hath  assign’d : 

And  as  the  one  still  minds  his  voyage  end, 

So  doth  the  other  to  mercy  still  pretend. 

On  sonour  chords  his  fingers  he  extends. 

Without  hearing  or  judgment  of  the  sound : 

Down  from  his  eyes  a stream  of  tears'  descends. 
Without  feeling,  that  trickle  on  the  ground. 

As  he  that  bleeds  in  bain  right  so  intends 
The  alter’d  senses  to  that  that  they  are  bound. 
But  sigh  and  weep  he  can  none  other  thing, 

And  look  up  still  unto  the  heavens’  King. 

But  who  had  been  without  the  cave’s  mouth 
And  heard  the  tears  and  sighs  that  him  did  strain. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  210 

He  would  have  sworn  there  had  out  of  the  south 
A lukewarm  wind  brought  forth  a smoky  rain. 

But  that  so  close  the  cave  was  and  uncouth 
That  none  but  God  was  record  of  his  pain, 

Else  had  the  wind  blown  in  all  Israel’s  ears 
Of  their  King  the  woful  plaint  and  tears. 

Of  which  some  part  when  he  up  supped  had, 

Like  as  he,  whom  his  own  thought  affrays. 

He  turns  his  look  ; him  seemeth  that  the  shade 
Of  his  offence  again  his  force  assays 
By  violent  despair  on  him  to  lade ; 

Starting  like  him,  whom  sudden  fear  dismays, 

His  voice  he  strains,  and  from  his  heart  out  brings 
This  song,  that  I note  ^ whether  he  cries  or  sings. 


MISERERE  MEI,  DEUS.f 

Hue  on  me.  Lord,  for  thy  goodness  and  grace. 
That  of  thy  nature  art  so  bountiful ; 

For  that  goodness  that  in  the  world  doth  brace 
Eepugnant  natures  in  quiet  wonderful ; 

And  for  thy  mercies  number  without  end 
In  heaven  and  earth  perceived  so  plentiful. 

That  over  all  they  do  themselves  extend, 

For  those  mercies  much  more  than  man  can  sin, 
Do  away  my  sins,  that  so  thy  grace  offend 
Ofttimes  again.  Wash,  wash  me  well  within. 


* i.  e.,  ne  wote,  know  not. 


t Psalm  li. 


220 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


And  from  my  sin,  that  thus  makes  me  afraid, 
Make  thou  me  clean,  as  aye  thy  wont  hath  been. 
For  unto  Thee  no  number  can  be  laid 
For  to  prescribe  remissions  of  offence 
In  hearts  returned,  as  thou  thyself  hast  said ; 
And  I beknow  my  fault,  my  negligence : 

And  in  my  sight  my  sin  is  fixed  fast. 

Thereof  to  have  more  perfect  penitence. 

To  Thee  alone,  to  Thee  have  I trespass’d ; 

For  none  can  measure  my  fault  but  thou  alone; 
For  in  thy  sight,  I have  not  been  aghast 
For  to  offend ; judging  thy  sight  as  none, 

So  that  my  fault  were  hid  from  sight  of  man ; 
Thy  majesty  so  from  my  mind  was  gone'. 

This  know  I,  and  repent ; pardon  Thou  then ; 
Whereby  Thou  shall  keep  still  thy  word  stable, 
Thy  justice  pure  and  clean,  because  that  when 
I pardoned  am,  that  forthwith  justly  able 
Just  I am  judged  by  justice  of  thy  grace. 

For  I myself,  lo  ! thing  most  unstable. 

Formed  in  offence,  conceived  in  like  case, 

Am  nought  but  sin  from  my  nativity. 

Be  not  these  said  for  mine  excuse,  alas ! 

But  of  thy  help  to  shew  necessity : 

For,  lo ! Thou  lovest  truth  of  the  inward  heart. 
Which  yet  doth  live  in  my  fidelity. 

Though  1 have  fallen  by  failty  overthwart : 

For  wilful  malice  led  me  not  the  way 
So  much  as  hath  tlie  flesh  drawn  me  apart. 
Wherefore,  O Lord,  as  thou  hast  done  alway. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  221 

Teach  me  the  hidden  wisdom  of  thy  lore ; 

Since  that  my  faith  doth  not  yet  decay. 

And,  as  the  Jews  do  heal  the  leper  sore, 

With  hissop  cleanse,  cleanse  me  and  I am  clean. 
Thou  shalt  me  wash,  and  more  than  snow  therefore 
I shall  be  white,  how  foul  my  fault  hath  been. 

Thou  of  my  health  shalt  gladsome  tidings  bring, 
When  from  above  remission  shall  be  seen 
Descend  on  earth ; then  shall  for  joy  up  spring 
The  bones,  that  were  before  consumed  to  dust. 

Look  not,  0 Lord ! upon  mine  offending. 

But  do  away  my  deeds  that  are  unjust. 

Make  a clean  heart  in  the  middle  of  my  breast 
With  spirit  upright  voided  from  filthy  lust. 

From  thine  eyes  cure  cast  me  not  in  unrest, 

FTor  take  from  me  thy  Spirit  of  Holiness. 

Render  to  me  joy  of  thy  help  and  rest : 

My  will  confirm  with  the  Spirit  of  Steadfastness^ 
And  by  this  shall  these  godly  things  ensue. 

Sinners  I shall  into  thy  ways  address : 

They  shall  return  to  Thee,  and  thy  grace  sue. 

My  tongue  shall  praise  thy  justification  ; 

My  mouth  shall  spread  thy  glorious  praises  true. 
But  of  thyself,  O God,  this  operation 
It  must  proceed ; by  purging  me  from  blood, 

Among  the  just  that  I may  have  relation : 

And  of  thy  lauds  for  to  let  out  the  flood. 

Thou  must,  O Lord,  my  lips  first  unloose. 

For  if  thou  hadst  esteemed  pleasant  good 
The  outward  deeds,  that  outward  men  disclose, 


222 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


I would  have  offer’d  unto  Thee  sacrifice : 

But  thou  delightest  not  in  no  such  glose 
Of  outward  deed,  as  men  dream  and  devise. 

The  sacrifice  that  the  Lord  liketh  most 
Is  spirit  contrite : low  heart  in  humble  wise 
Thou  dost  accept,  0 God,  for  pleasant  host. 

Make  Sion,  Lord,  according  to  thy  will 
Inward  Sion,  the  Sion  of  the  ghost : 

Of  heart’s  Jerusalem  strength  the  walls  still : 

Then  shalt  Thou  take  for  good  the  outward  deeds, 
As  a sacrifice  thy  pleasure  to  fulfill. 

Of  Thee  alone  thus  all  our  good  proceeds. 


THE  AUTHOR. 

Of  (}eep  secrets,  that  David  there  did  sing, 

Of  Mercy,  of  Faith,  of  Frailty,  of  Grace ; 

Of  God’s  goodness,  and  of  Justifying 
The  greatness  did  so  astonny  himself  apace, 

As  who  might  say.  Who  hath  expressed  this  thing 
I sinner,  I,  what  have  I said  ? alas  ! 

That  God’s  goodness  would  in  my  song  entreat. 
Let  me  again  consider  and  repeat. 

And  so  he  doth,  but  not  expressed  by  word ; 

But  in  his  heart  he  turneth  oft  and  paiseth 
Each  word,  that  erst  his  lips  might  forth  afford : 
He  pants,  he  pauseth,  he  wonders,  he  praiseth 


SIK  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


223 


The  Mercy,  that  hideth  of  Justice  the  sword : 
The  Justice  that  so  his  promise  complisheth 
For  his  word’s  sake  to  worthiless  desert, 

That  gratis  his  grace  to  men  doth  depart. 

Here  hath  he  comfort  when  he  doth  measure 
Measureless  mercy  to  measureless  fault. 

To  prodigal  sinners  infinite  treasure. 

Treasure  celestial,  that  never  shall  default : 

Yea,  when  that  sin  shall  fail,  and  may  not  dure, 
Mercy  shall  reign,  against  whom  shall  no  assault 
Of  hell  prevail : by  whom,  lo  ! at  this  day 
Of  Heaven  gates  Remission  is  the  key. 

And  when  David  had  pondered  well  and  tried. 
And  seeth  himself  not  utterly  deprived 
From  light  of  Grace,  that  dark  of  sin  did  hide, 
He  findeth  his  hope  much  therewith  revived ; 

He  dare  importune  the  Lord  on  every  side. 

For  he  knoweth  well  that  to  Mercy  is  ascribed 
Respectless  labour,  importune,  cry,  and  call ; 
And  thus  beginneth  his  song  therewithal : 


DOMINE,  EXAUDI  ORATIOXEM  MEAM.^ 

Lord,  hear  my  prayer,  and  let  my  cry  pass 
Unto  thee.  Lord,  without  impediment. 

Do  not  from  me,  turn  thy  merciful  face, 

Unto  myself  leaving  my  government. 


* Psalm  cii. 


224  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 

In  time  of  trouble  and  adversity 
Incline  unto  me  tbine  ear  and  tliine  intent : 

And  wlien  I call,  help  my  necessity ; 

Readily  grant  the  effect  of  my  desire  : . 

These  bold  demands  do  please  thy  Majesty : 

And  eke  my  case  such  haste  doth  well  rec^uire. 
For  like  as  smoke  my  days  are  past  away, 

My  bones  dried  up,  as  furnace  with  the  fire ; 

My  heart,  my  mind  is  wither’d  up  like  hay ; 
Because  I have  forgot  to  take  my  bread. 

My  bread  of  life,  the  word  of  Truth,  I say. 

And  for  my  plaintful  sighs  and  for  my  dread, 

My  bones,  my  strength,  my  very  force  of  mind 
Cleaved  to  the  flesh,  and  from  the  spirit  were  fled, 
As  desperate  thy  mercy  for  to  find. 

So  made  I me  the  solen  pelican. 

And  like  the  owl,  that  flietli  by  proper  kind 
Light  of  the  day,  and  hath  herself  beta’en 
To  ruin  life  out  of  all  company. 

With  waker  care,  that  with  this  . woe  began, 

Like  the  sparrow  was  I solitary. 

That  sits  alone  under  the  houses’  eaves. 

This  while  my  foes  conspired  continually. 

And  did  provoke  the  harm  of  my  disease. 
Wherefore  like  ashes  my  bread  did  me  savour ; 
Of  thy  just  word  the  taste  might  not  me  please  : 
Wherefore  my  drink  I temper’d  with  liquor 
Of  weeping  tears,  that  from  mine  eyes  did  rain. 
Because  I know  the  wrath  of  thy  furor. 

Provoked  by  right,  had  of  my  pride  disdain. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  225 

For  thou  didst  lift  me  up  to  throw  me  down ; 

To  teach  me  how  to  know  myself  again : 

Whereby  I knew  that  helpless  I should  drown^ 

My  days  like  shadow  decline,  and  I do  cry ; 

And  Thee  for  ever  eternity  doth  crown ; 

World  without  end  doth  last  thy  memory. 

For  this  frailty,  that  yoketh  all  mankind,, 

Thou  shalt  awake,  and  rue  this  misery : 

Rue  on  Sion,  Sion  that  as  I find 
Is  the  people  that  live  under  thy  law. 

For  now  is  time,  the  time  at  hand  assign’d, 

The  time  so  long  that  thy  servants  draw 
In  great  desire  to  see  that  pleasant  day ; 

Day  of  redeeming  Sion  from  sin’s  awe. 

For  they  have  ruth  to  see  in  such  decay 
In  dust  and  stones  this  wretched  Sion  lower. 

Then  the  Gentiles  shall  dread  thy  name  alway  ; 

All  earthly  kings  thy  glory  shall  honour. 

Then,  when  thy  grace  thy  Sion  thus  redeemeth. 
When  thus  Thou  hast  declared  thy  mighty  power. 
,The  lord  his  servants  wishes  so  esteemeth 
That  He  him  turneth  unto  the  poor’s  request. 

To  our  descent  this  to  be  written  seemeth^ 

Of  all  comforts  as  consolation  best  : 

And  they,  that  then  shall  be  regenerate. 

Shall  praise  the  Lord  therefore,  both  most  and  least. 
F or  He  hath  look’d  from  the  height  of  his  estate. 
The  Lord  from  heaven  in  earth  hath  look’d  on  us. 
To  hear  the  moan  of  them  that  are  algate 
In  foul  bondage ; to  loose,  and  to  discuss 
15 


226  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  ’ 

The  sons  of  death  out  from  their  deadly  bond ; 

To  give  thereby  occasion  glorious 
In  this  Sion  his  holy  name  to  stand ; 

And  in  Jerusalem  his  lauds,  lasting  aye, 

When  in  one  Church  the  people  of  the  land 
And  realms  been  gather’d  to  serve,  to  laud,  to  pray 
The  Lord  above,  so  just  and  merciful. 

But  to  this  samble  * running  in  the  way. 

My  strength  faileth  to  reach  it  at  the  full. 

He  hath  abridged  my  days,  they  may  not  dure 
To  see  that  term,  that  term  so  wonderful : 

Although  I have  with  hearty  will,  and  cure. 

Pray’d  to  the  Lord,  take  me  not.  Lord,  away 
In  midst  of  my  years : though  thine  ever  sure 
Bemain  eterne,  whom  time  cannot  decay. 

Thou  wrought’st  the  earth,  thy  hands  the  heavens 
did  make ; 

They  shall  perish,  and  thou  shalt  last  alway ; 

And  all  things  age  shall  wear,  and  overtake. 

Like  cloth,  and  Thou  shalt  change  them  like  apparel, 
Turn,  and  translate,  and  thou  in  worth  it  take ; 

But  Thou  thyself  thyself  remainest  well 

That  Thou  wast  erst,  and  shalt  thy  years  extend. 

Then,  since  to  this  there  may  no  thing  rebel. 

The  greatest  comfort  that  I can  pretend. 

Is  that  the  children  of  thy  servants  dear. 

That  in  thy  word  are  got,  shall  without  end 
Before  thy  face  be  stablish’d  all  in  fear. 


assembly. 


Sm  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


227 


THE  AUTHOR. 

When  David  had  perceived  in  his  breast 
The  Spirit  of  God  return,  that  was  exiled ; 

Because  he  knew  he  hath  alone  express’d 
These  same  great  things,  that  greater  Spirit  com- 
piled ; 

As  shawm  or  pipe  lets  out  the  sound  impress’d. 

By  music’s  art  forged  tofore  and  filed ; 

I say  when  David  had  perceived  this, 

The  spirit  of  comfort  in  him  revived  is. 

For  thereupon  he  maketh  argument 
Of  reconciling  unto  the  Lord’s  grace  ; 

Although  sometime  to  prophesy  have  lent 
Both  brute  beasts,  and  wicked  hearts  a place. 

But  our  David  judge th  in  his  intent 
Himself  by  penance,  clean  out  of  this  case. 

Whereby  he  hath  remission  of  offence, 

Ajid  ginneth  to  allow  his  pain  and  penitence. 

But  when  he  weigheth  the  fault,  and  recompense, 
He  damneth  this  his  deed  and  findeth  plain 
Atween  them  two  no  whit  equivalence ; 

Whereby  he  takes  all  outward  deed  in  vain 
To  bear  the  name  of  rightful  penitence  ; 

Which  i§  alone  the  heart  returned  again. 

And  sore  contrite,  that  doth  his  fault  bemoan ; 

And  outward  deed  the  sign  or  fruit  alone. 


228  sm  THOMAS  wyatt^s  poems. 

With  this  he  doth  defend  the  sly  assault 
Of  vain  allowance  of  his  own  desert ; 

And  all  the  glory  of  his  forgiven  fault 
To  God  alone  he  doth  it  whole  convert ; 

His  own  merit  he  findeth  in  default : 

And  whilst  he  pondereth  these  things  in  his  heart, 
His  knee  his  arm,  his  hand  sustained  his  chin, 
When  he  his  song  again  thus  did  begin. 


DE  PROFUNDIS  CLAMAVI  AD  TE,  DOMINE.* 

From  depth  of  sin,  and  from  a deep  despair. 

From  depth  of  death,  from  depth  of  heart’s  sorrow, 
From  this  deep  cave,  of  darkness  deep  repair. 

Thee  have  I called,  0 Lord,  to  be  my  borrow. 
Thou  in  my  voice,  O Lord,  perceive  and  hear 
My  heart,  my  hope,  my  plaint,  my  overthrow. 

My  will  to  rise : and  let  by  grant  appear. 

That  to  my  voice  thine  ears  do  well  attend ; 

No  place  so  far,  that  to  Thee  is  not  near ; 

No  depth  so  deep,  that  thou  ne  mayst  extend 
Thine  ear  thereto ; hear  then  my  woful  plaint : 
For,  Lord,  if  thou  observe  what  men  offend. 

And  put  thy  native  mercy  in  restraint ; 

If  just  exaction  demand  recompense ; 

Who  may  endure,  O Lord  ? who  shall  not  faint 
At  such  accompt  ? so  dread,  not  reverence 
Should  reign  at  large.  But  thou  seekest  rather  love 


* Psalm  cxxx. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems.  229 

For  in  thj  hand  is  Mercy’s  residence ; 

By  hope  whereof  Thou  dost  our  hearts  eke  move. 

I in  the  Lord  have  set  my  confidence : 

My  soul  such  trust  doth  evermore  approve : 

Thy  holy  word  of  eterne  excellence. 

Thy  mercy’s  promise,  that  is  alway  just. 

Have  been  my  stay,  my  pillar,  and  defence. 

My  soul  in  God  hath  more  desirous  trust. 

Than  hath  the  watchman  looking  for  the  day. 

For  his  relief,  to  quench  of  sleep  the  thrust. 

Let  Israel  trust  unto  the  Lord  alway ; 

For  grace  and  favour  are  his  property : 

Plenteous  ransom  shall  come  with  him,  I say. 

And  shall  redeem  all  our  iniquity. 


THE  AUTHOE. 

This  word  Pedeem,  that  in  his  mouth  did  sound. 
Did  put  David,  it  seemeth  unto  me. 

As  in  a trance,  to  stare  upon  the  ground. 

And  with  his  thought  the  height  of  heaven  to  see : 
Where  he  beholds  the  Word  that  should  confound 
The  word  of  death,  by  humility  to  be 
In  mortal  maid,  in  mortal  habit  made, 

Eternity  in  mortal  vail  to  shade. 

He  seeth  that  Word,  when  full  ripe  time  should 
come. 

Do  away  that  vail  by  fervent  affection. 


230 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POExMS. 


Torn  of  with  death,  for  Death  should  have  her  doom, 
And  leapeth  lighter  from  such  corruption : 

The  glute  of  light,  that  in  the  air  doth  lome, 

Man  redeemeth,  death  hath  her  destruction : 

That  mortal  vail  hath  immortality ; 

To  David  assurance  of  his  iniquity. 

Whereby  he  frames  this  reason  in  his  heart. 

That  goodness,  which  doth  not  forbear  his  son 
From  death  for  me,  and  can  thereby  convert 
My  death  to  life,  my  sin  to  salvation. 

Both  can  and  will  a smaller  grace  depart 
To  him,  that  sueth  by  humble  supplication : 

And  since  I have  his  larger  grace  assay’d, 

To  ask  this  thing  why  am  I then  afraid  ? 

He  granteth  most  to  them  that  most  do  crave, 

And  He  delights  in  suit  without  respect. 

Alas,  my  son  pursues  me  to  the  grave. 

Suffered  by  God  my  sin  for  to  correct. 

But  of  my  sin,  since  I may  pardon  have. 

My  son’s  pursuit  shall  shortly  be  reject ; 

Then  will  I crave  with  sured  confidence. 

And  thus  beginneth  the  suit  of  his  pretence. 


sm  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


2 


DOMINEj  EX  AUDI  ORATIONEM  ME  AM.* 

Hear  my  prayer,  O Lord ; hear  my  request ; 
Complish  my  boon ; answer  to  my  desire  ; 

Not  by  desert,  but  for  thine  own  behest ; 

In  whose  firm  truth  Thou  promised  mine  empire 
To  stand  stable  : and  after  thy  justice. 

Perform,  O Lord,  that  thing  that  I require. 

But  not  of  Law  after  the  form  and  guise 
To  enter  judgment  with  thy  thrall  bondslave, 

To  plead  his  right ; for  in  such  manner  wise 
Before  thy  sight  no  man  his  right  shall  save. 

For  of  myself,  lo  I this  my  righteousness 
By  scourge,  and  whip,  and  pricking  spurs,  I have 
Scant  risen  up,  such  is  my  beastliness : 

For  that  mine  enemy  hath  pursued  my  life, 

And  in  the  dust  hath  soiled  my  lustiness 
To  foreign  realms,  to  flee  his  rage  so  rife. 

He  hath  me  forced ; as  dead  to  hide  my  head. 
And  for  because,  within  myself  at  strife. 

My  heart,  and  spirit,  with  all  my  force,  were  fled, 
I had  recourse  to  times  that  have  been  past. 

And  did  remember  thy  deeds  in  all  my  dread, 
And  did  peruse  thy  works  that  ever  last ; 
Whereby  I know  above  these  wonders  all 
Thy  mercies  were : then  lift  I up  in  haste 


* Psalm  cxliii. 


232 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS. 


My  hands  to  Thee ; my  soul  to  Thee  did  call, 
Like  barren  soil,  for  moisture  of  thy  grace. 

Haiste  to  my  help,  0 Lord,  afore  I fall ; 

For  sure  I feel  my  spirit  doth  faint  apace. 

Turn  not  thy  face  from  me  that  I be  laid 
In  count  of  them  that  headlong  down  do  pass 
Into  the  pit : Shew  me  betimes  thine  aid, 

F or  on  thy  grace  I wholly  do  depend : 

And  in  thy  hand  since  all  my  health  is  staid. 

Do  me  to  know  what  way,  thou  wilt,  I bend ; 

For  unto  thee  I have  raised  up  my  mind. 

Fid  me,  0 Lord,  from  them  that  do  entend 
My  foes  to  be  ; for  I have  me  assigned 
Alway  within  thy  secret  protection. 

Teach  me  thy  will,  that  I by  thee  may  find 
The  way  to  work  the  same  in  affection : 

For  thou,  my  God,  thy  blessed  Spirit  upright 
In  laud  of  truth  shall  be  my  direction. 

Thou,  for  thy  name.  Lord,  shalt  revive  my  sprite 
Within  the  right,  that  I receive  by  Thee : 
Whereby  my  life  of  danger  shall  be  quite. 

Thou  hast  fordone  the  great  iniquity, 

That  vex’d  my  soul : Thou  shalt  also  confound 
My  foes,  0 Lord,  for  thy  benignity ; 

For  thine  am  I,  thy  servant  aye  most  bound. 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


233 


NOLI  EMULARI  IN  MALIGNA.* 

Altiio  thou  see  th’  outrageous  climb  aloft, 
Envy  not  thou  his  blind  prosperity. 

The  wealth  of  wretches,  tho’  it  seemeth  soft, 
Move  not  thy  heart  by  their  felicity. 

They  shall  be  found  like  grass,  turn’d  into  hay, 
And  as  the  herbs  that  wither  suddenly. 

Stablish  thy  trust  in  God : seek  right  alway, 
And  on  the  earth  thou  shalt  inhabit  long. 

F eed,  and  increase  such  hope  from  day  to  day ; 
And  if  with  God  thou  time  thy  hearty  song, 

He  shall  thee  give  what  so  thy  heart  can  lust. 
Cast  upon  God  thy  will,  that  rights  thy  wrong ; 
Give  him  the  charge,  for  He  upright  and  just 
Hath  cure  of  thee,  and  eke,  of  thy  cares  all ; 
And  He  shall  make  thy  truth  to  be  discust. 
Bright  as  the  sun,  and  thy  rightwiseness  shall 
(The  cursed  wealth,  though  now  do  it  deface) 
Shine  like  the  daylight  that  we  the  noon  call. 
Patiently  abide  the  Lord’s  assured  grace : 

Bear  with  even  mind  the  trouble  that  he  sends ; 
Dismay  thee  not,  though  thou  see  the  purchase 
Increase  of  some ; for  such  like  luck  God  sends 
To  wicked  folk. 

Restrain  thy  mind  from  wrath  that  aye  offends. 


* Psalm  xxxvii. 


234  SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 

Do  way  all  rage,  and  see  thou  do  eschew 
By  their  like  deed  such  deeds  for  to  commit ; 

For  wicked  folk  their  overthrow  shall  rue. 

Who  patiently  abides,  and  do  not  flit 

They  shall  possede  the  world  from  heir  to  heir ; 

The  wicked  shall  of  all  his  wealth  be  quit 
So  suddenly,  and  that  without  repair, 

That  all  his  pomp,  and  all  his  strange  array 
Shall  from  thine  eye  depart,  as  blast  of  air, 

The  sober  then  the  world  shall  wield  1 say, 

And  live  in  wealth  and  peace  so  plentiful. 

Him  to  destroy  the  wicked  shall  assay. 

And  gnash  his  teeth  eke  with  groaning  ireful ; 

The  Lord  shall  scorn  the  threatenings  of  the  wretch. 
For  he  doth  know  the  tide  is  nigh  at  full 
When  he  shall  sink,  and  no  hand  shall  him  seech. 
They  have  unsheathed  eke  their  bloody  bronds. 

And  bent  their  bow  to  prove  if  they  might  reach 

To  overthrow  the  

Bare  of  relief  the  harmless  to  devour. 

The  sword  shall  pierce  the  heart  of  such  that  fonds : 
Their  bow  shall  break  in  their  most  endeavour. 

A little  living  gotten  rightfully 
Passeth  the  riches,  and  eke  the  high  power 
Of  that,  that  wretches  have  gather’d  wickedly. 
Perish  shall  the  wicked’s  posterity. 

And  God  shall  ’stablish  the  just  assuredly. 

The  just  man’s  days  the  Lord  doth  know,  and  see ! 
Their  heritage  shall  last  for  evermore. 

And  of  their  hope  beguil’d  they  shall  not  be. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’s  POEMS.  235 

When  dismold  days  shall  wrap  the  other  sore. 

They  shall  be  full  when  other  faint  for  food, 
Therewhilst  shall  fail  these  wicked  men  therefore. 
To  God’s  enemies  such  end  shall  be  allow’d, 

As  hath  lamb’s  grease  wasting  in  the  fire. 

That  is  consum’d  into  a smoky  cloud. 

Borroweth  th’  unjust  without  will  or  desire 
To  yield  again ; the  just  freely  doth  give, 

Where  he  seeth  need : as  mercy  doth  require. 

Who  will’th  him  well  for  right  therefore  shall  leve ; 
Who  banish  him  shall  be  rooted  away. 

His  steps  shall  God  direct  still  and  relieve. 

And  please  him  shall  what  life^him  lust  essay ; 

And  though  he  fall  under  foot,  lie  shall  not  he, 
Catching  his  hand  for  God  shall  straight  him  stay : 


Nor  yet  his  seed  foodless  seen  for  to  be. 

The  just  to  all  men  merciful  hath  been ; 

Busy  to  do  well,  therefore  his  seed,  I say. 

Shall  have  abundance  alway  fresh  and  green. 

Flee  ill ; do  good ; that  thou  may’st  last  alway, 

For  God  doth  love  for  evermore  the  upright. 

Never  his  chosen  doth  he  cast  away ; 

F or  ever  he  them  mindeth  day  and  night ; 

And  wicked  seed  alway  shall  waste  to  nought, 

The  just  shall  wield  the  world  as  their  own  right. 
And  long  thereon  shall  dwell,  as  they  have  wrought. 
With  wisdom  shall  the  wise  man’s  mouth  him  able ; 
His  tongue  shall  speak  alway  even  as  it  ought. 

With  God’s  learning  he  hath  his  heart  stable, 


236 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT’S  POEMS. 


His  foot  therefore  from  sliding  shall  be  sure ! 

The  wicked  watcheth  the  just  for  to  disable, 

And  for  to  slay  him  doth  his  busy  cure. 

But  God  will  not  suffer  him  for  to  quail ; 

By  tyranny,  nor  yet  by  fault  unpure, 

To  be  condemn’d  in  judgment  without  fail. 

Await  therefore  the  coming  of  the  Lord ! 

Live  with  his  laws  in  patience  to  prevail, 

And  He  shall  raise  thee  of  thine  own  accord 
Above  the  earth,  in  surety  to  behold 
The  wicked’s  death,  that  thou  may  it  record, 

I have  well  seen  the  wicked  sheen  like  gold : 

Lusty  and  green  as  laurel  lasting  aye. 

But  even  anon  and  scant  his  seat  was  cold 
When  I have  pass’d  again  the  selfsame  way ; 
Where  he  did  reign,  he  was  not  to  be  found : 
Vanish’d  he  was  for  all  his  fresh  array. 

Let  uprightness  be  still  thy  steadfast  ground. 

Follow  the  right;  such  one  shall  alway  find 
Himself  in  peace  and  plenty  to  abound. 

All  wicked  folk  reversed  shall  untwind. 

And  wretchedness  shall  be  the  wicked’s  end. 

Health  to  the  just  from  God  shall  be  assign’d, 

He  shall  them  strength  whom  trouble  should  offend. 
The  Lord  shall  help  I say,  and  them  deliver 
From  cursed  hands,  and  health  unto  them  send. 

For  that  in  Him  they  set  their  trust  for  ever. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATt’s  POEMS. 


237 


AN  EPITAPH  OF  SIR  THOMAS  GRAVENER, 
KNIGHT. 

Under  this  stone  there  lieth  at  rest 
A friendly  man,  a worthy  knight ; 

Whose  heart  and  mind  was  ever  prest 
To  favour  truth,  to  further  right. 

The  poor’s  defence,  his  neighbour’s  aid, 

Most  kind  always  unto  his  kin ; 

That  stint  all  strife,  that  might  stayed ; 
Whose  gentle  grace  great  love  did  win. 

A man,  that  was  full  earnest  set  . 

To  serve  his  prince  at  all  assays  : 

No  sickness  could  him  from  it  let ; 

Which  was  the  shortening  of  his  days. 

His  life  was  good,  he  died  full  well ; 

The  body  here,  the  soul  in  bliss 
With  length  of  words  why  should  I tell, 

Or  farther  shew,  that  well  known  is ; 

Since  that  the  tears  of  more  and  less, 

Eight  well  declare  his  worthiness. 


Vlvit  post  funera  Virtus. 


238 


SIR  THOMAS  Wyatt’s  poems. 


SIR  ANTONIE  SENTLEGER  OE  SIR  T.  WYATT. 

Thus  lieth  the  dead,  that  whilome  lived  here 
Among  the  dead  that  quick  go  on  the  ground ; 
Though  he  be  dead,  yet  doth  he  quick  appear 
By  immortal  fame  that  death  cannot  confound 
His  life  for  aye,  his  fame  in  trump  shall  sound. 
Though  he  be  dead,  yet  is  he  thus  alive : 

No  death  that  life  from  Wyatt  can  deprive. 


THE  END. 


I 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


A FACE  that  should  content  me  wondrous  well,  168. 
A Lady  gave  me  a gift  she  had  not,  185. 

A spending  hand  that  alway  poureth  out,  194. 
Absence,  absenting  causeth  me  to  complain,  147. 
Accused  though  I be  without  desert,  179. 

After  great  storms  the  calm  returns,  60. 

Ah!  Eobin,  90. 

V Ah!  my  heart,  what  aileth  thee,  140. 

Alas ! the  grief,  and  deadly  woful  smart,  71. 

Alas ! poor  man,  what  hap  have  I,  110. 

Alas,  Madam,  for  stealing  of  a kiss,  170. 

All  in  thy  look  my  life  doth  whole  depend,  175. 

All  heavy  minds,  68. 

Altho’  thou  see  th’  outrageous  climb  aloft,  233. 

And  if  an  eye  may  save  or  slay,  64. 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus.  111. 

As  power  and  wit  will  me  assist,  113. 

At  last  withdraw  your  cruelty,  102.  * 

At  most  mischief,  79. 

Avising  the  bright  beams  of  those  fair  eyes,  10. 

Because  I still  kept  thee  fro’  lies  and  blame,  8. 
Behold,  Love,  thy  power  how  she  despiseth,  22. 
Blame  not  my  lute ! for  he  must  sound,  98. 

Cassar,  when  that  the  traitor  of  Egypt.  6. 

Comfort  thyself,  my  woful  heart,  70. 

Deem  as  ye  list  upon  good  cause,  149. 

Desire,  alas,  my  master  and  my  foe,  169. 


240 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Disdain  me  not  without  desert,  43. 

Divers  doth  use,  as  I have  heard  and  know,  19. 
Driven  desire  I did  this  deed,  180. 

Each  man  me  telleth  I change  most  my  devise,  7. 
Ever  my  hap  is  slack  and  slow  in  coming,  12. 

Farewell,  Love,  and  all  thy  laws  for  ever,  18. 
Farewell  the  heart  of  cruelty,  36. 

Forget  not  yet  the  tried  intent,  126. 

For  shamefast  harm  of  great  and  hateful  need,  169. 
For  to  love  her  for  her  looks  lovely,  24. 

For  want  of  will  in  woe  I plain,  44. 

From  depth  of  sin,  and  from  a deep  despair,  228. 
From  these  high  hills  as  when  a spring  doth  fall,  173. 
Full  well  it  may  be  seen,  119. 

Give  place,  all  ye  that  doth  rejoice,  137. 

Go,  burning  sighs,  unto  the  frozen  heart,  23. 

Hate  whom  ye  list,  for  I care  not,  141. 

Hear  my  prayer,  0 Lord ; hear  my  request,  231. 
Heart  oppress’d  with  desperate  thought,  119. 

Heaven,  and  earth,  and  all  that  hear  me  plain,  59. 
Help  me  to  seek ! for  I lost  it  there,  24. 

He  is  not  dead,  that  sometime  had  a fall,  177. 

How  oft  have  I,  my  dear  and  cruel  foe,  13. 

How  should  I,  134. 

I abide,  and  abide ; and  better  abide,  20. 

I am  as  I am,  and  so  will  I be,  150. 

I find  no  peace, 'and  all  my  war  is  done,  9. 

I have  sought  long  with  steadfastness,  75. 

I love,  loved ; and  so  doth  she,  104. 

I see,  that  chance  hath  chosen  me,  53. 

If  amorous  faith,  or  if  a heart  unfeigned,  15. 

If  chance  assign’d,  78. 

If  every  man  might  him  avaunt,  45. 

If  fq.ncy  would  favour,  65. 

If  in  the  world  there  be  more  woe,  88. 

If  it  be  so  that  I forsake  thee,  27. 

If  thou  wilt  mighty  be,  fiee  from  the  rage,  56. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES, 


241 


If  waker  care ; if  sudden  pale  colour,  5. 

If  with  complaint  the  pain  might  be  express’d,  128. 

In  doubtful  breast  whilst  motherly  pit}’^,  170. 

In  geternum  I was  once  determed,  91. 

In  Court  to  serve  decked  with  fresh  array,  178. 

In  faith  I wot  not  what  to  say,  37. 

Is  it  possible,  108. 

It  burneth  yet,  alas,  my  heart’s  desire,  182. 

It  is  a grievous  smart,  105. 

It  was  my  choice,  it  was  no  chance,  117. 

It  may  be  good,  like  it  who  list,  36. 

Leave  thus  to  slander  love,  93. 

Like  as  the  bird  within  the  cage  inclosed,  54. 

Like  as  the  swan  towards  her  death,  89. 

Like  as  the  wind  with  raging  blast,  186. 

Like  as  the  pilgrim,  that  in  a long  way,  218. 

Like  unto  these  unmeasurable  mountains,  14. 

Lo ! how  I seek  and  sue  to  have,  122. 

Lord,  hear  my  prayer,  and  let  my  cry  pass,  223. 

Lo ! what  it  is  to  love,  92. 

Love  doth  again,  143. 

Love,  Fortune,  and  my  mind  which  do  remember,  13. 
Love,  to  give  law  unto  his  subjects’  hearts,  203. 

Lux,  my  fair  falcon,  and  thy  fellows  all,  177. 

Madam,  withouten  many  words,  180. 

Marvel  no  more  although,  38. 

Me  list  no  more  to  sing,  131. 

Mine  old  dear  enemy,  my  froward  master,  152. 

Mine  own  John  Poins,  since  ye  delight  to  know,  191. 
Mistrustful  minds  be  moved,  184. 

Most  wretched  heart ! most  miserable,  96. 

My  galley  charged  with  forgetfulness,  9. 

My  heart  I gave  thee,  not  to  do  it  pain,  15. 

My  hope,  alas ! hath  me  abused,  67. 

My  love  to  scorn,  my  service  to  retain,  11. 

My  love  is  like  unto  th’  eternal  fire,  123. 

My  lute,  awake,  perform  the  last,  29. 

My  mother’s  maids,  when  they  do  sew  and  spin,  187. 

16 


242 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


My  pen!  take  pain  a little  space,  100. 

Nature,  that  gave  the  bee  so  feat  a grace,  175, 

Now  must  I leam  to  live  at  rest,  124. 

Now  all  of  change,  145. 

Of  Carthage  he  that  worthy  warrior,  175. 

Of  deep  secrets,  that  David  there  did  sing,  222. 

Of  few  words.  Sir,  you  seem  to  be,  181. 

Of  purpose  Love  chose  first  for  to  be  blind,  168. 

0 goodly  hand,  62. 

Oh!  happy  are  they  that  have  forgiveness  got,  211. 

0 Lord ! since  in  my  mouth  thy  mighty  name,  206. 

0 Lord!  as  I have  thee  both  pray’d  and  pray,  215. 

0 ! miserable  sorrow,  withouten  cure,  127. 

Once,  as  meth ought,  fortune  me  kiss’d,  30. 

Pass  forth,  my  wonted  cries,  40. 

Patience  for  my  device,  83. 

Patience ! though  I have  not,  84. 

Patience  of  all  my  smart,  85. 

Patience ! for  I have  wrong,  148. 

--  Perdie  I said  it  not,  48. 

Process  of  time  worketh  such  wonder,  87. 

Eesound  my  voice,  ye  woods,  that  hear  me  plain,  33. 

Eight  true  it  is,  and  said  full  yore  ago,  172. 

Eue  on  me,  Lord,  for  thy  goodness  and  grace,  219. 

She  sat,  and  sewed,  that  hath  done  me  the  wrong,  173. 
Sighs  are  my  food,  my  drink  are  my  tears,  176. 

Since  love  is  such  as  that  ye  wot,  121. 

Since  love  will  needs  that  I shall  love,  51. 

Since  so  ye  please  to  hear  me  plain,  124. 

Since  you  will  needs  that  I shall  sing,  130. 

Since  ye  delight  to  know,  73. 

So  feeble  is  the  thread,  that  doth  the  burden  stay,  157. 

Some  fowls  there  be  that  have  so  perfect  sight,  7. 

Sometime  I sigh,  sometime  I sing,  115. 

Sometime  I fled  the  Are,  that  me  so  brent,  174. 

Speak  thou  and  speed  where  will  or  power  ought  helpeth,  185. 
Spite  hath  no  power  to  make  me  sad,  138. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


243 


Stand,  whoso  list,  upon  the  slipper  wheel,  178. 

Such  is  the  course  that  nature’s  kind  hath  wrought,  11. 
Such  hap  as  I am  happed  in,  74. 

Such  vain  thought  as  wonted  to  mislead  me,  3. 

Sufficed  not,  Madam,  that  you  did  tear,  182. 

Tagus,  farewell,  that  westward  with  thy  streams,  176. 
Take  heed  by  time,  lest  ye  be  spied,  101. 

Tangled  I was  in  Love’s  snare,  141. 

That  time  that  mirth  did  steer  my  ship,  112. 

The  answer  that  ye  made  to  me,  ihy  dear,  46. 

The  enemy  of  life,  decayer  of  all  kind,  172. 

The  furious  gun  in  his  most  raging  ire,  174. 

The  flaming  sighs  that  boil  Within  my  breast,  16. 

The  fruit  of  all  the  service  that  I serve,  127. 

The  heart  and  service  to  you  proffer’d,  106. 

The  joy  so  short,  alas!  the  pain  so  near,  133. 

The  knot  which  first  my  heart  did  strain,  116. 

The  lively  sparks  that  issue  from  those  eyes,  3. 

The  long  love  that  in  my  thought  I harbour,  1. 

The  pillar  perish’d  is  whereto  I leant,  17. 

There  was  never  nothing  more  me  pained,  58. 

The  restful  place,  renewer  of  my  smart,  32. 

The  wand’ring  gadling  in  the  summer  tide,  171. 

They  flee  from  me,  that  sometime  did  me  seek,  31. 

This  song  ended,  David  did  stint  his  voice,  214. 

This  word.  Redeem,  that  in  his  mouth  did  sound,  229. 
Tho’  I cannot  your  cruelty  constrain,  86. 

Thou  hast  no  faith  of  him  that  hath  none,  28. 

Though  I myself  be  bridled  of  my  mind,  20. 

Though  this  the  port,  and  I thy  servant  true,  61. 
Throughout  the  world  if  it  were  sought,  179. 

Thus  lieth  the  dead,  that  whilome  hved  here,  238. 

To  cause  accord,  or  to  agree,  81. 

To  rail  or  jest,  ye  know  I use  it  not,  21. 

To  seek  each  where  where  man  doth  live,  57. 

To  wish,  and  want,  and  not  obtain,  76. 

To  wet  your  eye  withouten  tear,  103. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Unstable  dream,  according  to  the  place,  4. 

Under  this  stone  there  lieth  at  rest,  237. 

Unwarily  so  was  never  no  man  caught,  47. 

Venomous  thorns  that  are  so  sharp  and  keen,  177. 

Vulcan  begat  me,  Minerva  me  taught,  169. 

Was  never  file  yet  half  so  well  y filed,  2. 

What  death  is  worse  than  this,  82. 

What  needs  these  threatening  words  and  wasted  wind,  171. 
What  no,  perdie ! ye  may  be  sure,  26. 

What  meaneth  this ! when  I lie  alone,  107. 

What  rage  is  this  ? what  furor  ? of  what  kind,  52. 

What  vaileth  truth,  or  by  it  to  take  pain,  22. 

What  man  heard  such  cruelty  before,  173. 

What  should  I say,  136. 

What  word  is  that,  that  change th  not,  184. 

When  David  had  perceived  in  his  breast,  227. 

When  Dido  feasted  the  wandering  Troian  knight,  163. 
When  first  mine  eyes  did  view  and  mark,  50. 

Where  shall  I have  at  mine  own  will,  34. 

Whoso  hath  seen  the  sick  in  his  fever,  210. 

Will  ye  see  what  wonders  Love  hath  wrought,  148. 

Whoso  list  to  hunt?  I know  where  is  an  hind,  18. 

Within  my  breast  I never  thought  it  gain,  181. 

Ye  know  my  heart,  my  Lady  dear,  128. 

Ye  old  mule ! that  think  yourself  so  fair,  25. 

Ye  that  in  love  find  luck  and  sweet  abundance,  5. 

Yet  was  I never  of  your  love  aggrieved,  1. 

Your  looks  so  often  cast,  41. 


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